One Little Girl
by InvisiblePrincess2002
Summary: When an anonymous Eastland student starts an underground movement against child trafficking, both the Eastland campus and the WJM newsroom are shaken to their cores.
1. I Love You, Mary Richards

**Author's Note: **This story is based on the CBS TV series _The Mary Tyler Moore Show_, and on the NBC TV series _The Facts of Life. _As far as I know, _The Mary Tyler Moore Show_ is the property of MTM Enterprises and 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, and _The Facts of Life _is the property of Embassy Television, Columbia Pictures Television, and Sony Pictures Television . **No infringement is intended.**

I typically wait until I've completed a story before I publish it, and when I first started this story months earlier, that was what I was planning to do. However, I recently changed my mind and decided to start publishing story chapters as I completed them. That's why I'm posting the first nine chapters of this story now and will continue posting new chapters as I finish them. Thanks for stopping by. :)

**Chapter Summary: **Six months after Marie Slaughter's untimely passing, Murray sends his oldest child Bonnie off to college; Mary realizes that she has feelings for Murray and seeks Mr. Grant's advice about it.

**Chapter 1: I Love You, Mary Richards**

It was a very bittersweet Saturday for Murray Slaughter as he hugged his oldest child tightly and kissed her goodbye. Eighteen-year-old Bonnie had received a full scholarship to UCLA, and on this rather chilly day in late September, she was standing with her father and his close friend, Mary Richards, in the middle of the airport, saying a long and emotional goodbye.

"I'm so proud of you, Bonnie," Murray told her with a smile as he fought to hold back his tears. It seemed like only yesterday that Murray had held her in his arms for the first time, and now all of the sudden, here she was, all grown-up and leaving the nest. He was indeed very proud of her, but it also really tore him up knowing that his first baby girl wasn't a baby anymore. It had already been a terribly difficult and painful year with the untimely death of his wife Marie, and now that his first baby was heading off to college, his emotions were all over the place. "And I know your mother's smiling down on you from heaven today and that she is every bit as proud of you as I am," said Murray as he barely managed to hold back his tears.

"Murray's exactly right, Bonnie," Mary chimed in with a kind smile. "I just know that your mother is so happy today, looking down on you, at the beautiful young lady you've become. You've made her so proud."

"Thanks, you guys," Bonnie said sweetly. Then in the next moment, it was announced over the loudspeaker that it was time for her flight to be boarded.

"I guess it's time," said Murray hesitantly, clearly not wanting to say goodbye to his little girl.

"I guess it is," Bonnie agreed as she, too, fought to keep from crying. She then gave her father a long, fervent hug and he kissed her cheek. When the embrace finally ended, Bonnie looked into her father's eyes and told him, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, baby. I love you so much," Murray whispered as tears started streaming down his face. He just couldn't hold them back any longer. "Call me anytime you need me, day or night."

"I will, Dad."

"Enjoy your new life at college, Bonnie," Mary told her with a big smile, and then she gave Bonnie a big hug as well. "I know you'll do well."

"Thanks, Mary," said Bonnie, and then she left them and got in line. A few moments later, just before boarding the plane, Bonnie gave them one last wave goodbye.

* * *

"I just can't believe it," Murray said with a sigh later on that evening. After Murray and Mary had said their goodbyes to Bonnie at the airport, they spent the rest of the day together at the movies, and now it was seven o'clock and they were having dinner at a small Italian restaurant that had just opened up in town. "I cannot believe my little Bonnie left for college today."

"Kids really do grow up fast, don't they?" Mary said kindly.

"Faster than I ever dreamed possible," Murray agreed. "I sure am grateful Marie's parents are watching the kids for me today. I think it was easier on all of us to have Ellen, Le Chan, and Susie say their goodbyes to Bonnie at the house and have them spend the day with their grandparents while you and I took Bonnie to the airport."

"Yes, I think it was best to do it that way. I know that Bonnie leaving the nest is a very big change. It's understandable that you'd need to get away from the kids and take a little time for yourself, just to let it all sink in, and I know they're having fun with their grandparents today. Plus, I know that things have been very hard on you, especially after…" Mary started to say, but then she allowed the sentence to trail.

"Yeah," Murray whispered. "Isn't life crazy? We were just going about our everyday lives, business as usual, when my whole world got turned upside down. We were all so happy to be back in the newsroom again, and we were getting back into our daily routine." Two weeks before that terrible day, Murray, Mary, and Mr. Grant had all been fired by the station's new owner. But after their departure, it only took him a matter of days to realize that he'd made a horrible mistake. He'd foolishly believed that the problem causing the terrible ratings for WJM's news show was behind the camera, when it was very clearly _in front __of_ the camera with their grossly incompetent and unprofessional anchorman, Ted Baxter. As soon as the new owner of WJM, Mr. Coleman, realized what a terrible mistake he made, he immediately fired Ted and begged everyone else to come back with substantial pay increases. "Then all of the sudden, that one rainy Wednesday afternoon," Murray continued, "a cop came walking into the newsroom, telling me that my wife had been in a car crash."

"I know," Mary said sadly. "Oh Murr, I wish I had some kind of magic words to say to make it all better. I'm just so sorry that you and the kids have been going through all of this. I know these past six months have been really painful for you guys. I just wish there was something I could do to make it easier."

Murray smiled then and said, "Mary, all you've ever done from day one is make things easier. I would've lost my mind these past few months had you not been there, and I speak for the kids as well. You've been an angel to all of us."

Mary dismissed Murray's praise with a wave of her hand and told him, "I think you're overstating things a little."

"I'm not," Murray insisted. "You've constantly helped me with the kids through all of this. And I know you turned down a date with Andrew to come with Bonnie and me to the airport today. That really meant a lot to me. I want you to know that."

"It was no big deal, Murray. Besides, I wanted to come."

"But still, I don't think I could've taken saying goodbye to Bonnie all by myself today. Having you there was an enormous help."

"Well I'm glad I helped. I really am," Mary said with her typical warm smile as her brown eyes locked with his blue eyes. There was an entire ocean of love for Mary right there in Murray's eyes and she _definitely _felt it. And for the first time ever in the history of their friendship, it made her heart start skipping beats.

It was then that the waitress brought their food out to them, and they instantly dove into their meal and Mary pushed those thoughts out of her head.

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed without anything too earth-shaking happening. Mary went out and played tennis that Sunday afternoon with her new boyfriend Andrew, and even though Murray wasn't wild about the idea, he spent much of the day in church with his kids and Marie's parents. Marie's mother and father had always been very serious about their faith in Christ, and in the last few months of Marie's life, she had come to believe in Jesus as well. She never morphed into an annoying Bible-thumper, but her newfound faith in Christ had had a powerful impact on her life in the months before her deadly car crash, and Murray wanted very much so to do whatever he could to honor her memory and bring comfort to her parents. So even though he did find it all rather tedious, he was glad to start attending church with the kids for their sakes.

However, that Monday night, things got rather earth-shaking again when Murray's youngest child, his eight-year-old daughter Susie, was running around playing with a couple of other neighborhood kids outside in the front yard and she suddenly tripped and fell and twisted her ankle. Thankfully, one of Murray's neighbors was a doctor, and he in fact was the father of one of the children Susie had been playing with that evening, and he was more than happy to make a house-call. He assured Murray that even though she'd sprained her ankle, she'd be fine within about a week or so as long as he made sure Susie stayed off her feet as much as possible and kept ice on her ankle to keep the swelling down. After the doctor and all the other neighborhood kids went home and Murray had Susie all settled in bed, Susie kept insisting that she wanted to see Mary. Murray told her that he'd ask Mary to come home with him after work tomorrow, but the child wouldn't budge, and she kept insisting that she just had to see Mary that night. And even though Murray hated to inconvenience Mary, he just couldn't say no to his baby girl.

It just so happened that Mary had just walked through the door of her high-rise apartment with Andrew that evening when her phone began to ring. Mary hadn't even had a chance to take her coat off yet, much less kiss Andrew goodbye for the night.

"Hello?" she said with her usual friendliness and warmth while Andrew took off his own coat and walked over to Mary's couch and sat down. In the next moment, her face lit up when she heard Murray's voice. "Oh, hi Murr," she said with a big smile as Andrew quietly groaned in irritation. "What can I do for you?" Several moments later, Mary said, "Oh gee, I'm so sorry to hear that Susie sprained her ankle." After another short pause, Mary said, "Sure. Of course I understand. I'll be over there as soon as I can." Andrew then rolled his eyes. "I'm more than happy to do it, Murr. I'll see you in a few minutes. Goodbye."

The tall, slim, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Andrew rose from his seat then and angrily asked Mary, "You're doing it again, aren't you? You're ditching me for Murray _yet again._"

Taken aback, Mary said, "Ditching you for Murray? What are you talking about?"

"Mary, you're a wonderful woman, and when we met each other three weeks ago and started dating, I was really happy. I was convinced that this really could lead somewhere. But our relationship can't go anywhere as long as you remain torn between me and Murray. You're constantly canceling our dates so you can go running over to Murray's house. I am _always _being sidelined because Murray needs this or Murray needs that. You know what my career as a concert pianist means to me, and you know that I had a big concert last Saturday afternoon. I really wanted you to be there, Mary. It would have meant a lot to me. But no. As always, Murray comes first. You just _had _to go to the airport with him to say goodbye to his daughter. And tonight, I really wanted you and me to enjoy a nice, long evening together. But yet again, Murray and his kids come first. I'm sick and tired of this, Mary. You're not Murray's wife, and you're not the mother of his children, but you keep acting like you are. You know I think the world of you, Mary, but you're going to have to make a choice once and for all. Are you going to be Murray's substitute wife or my girlfriend? What's it going to be?"

Although Mary wanted to give in to her anger at Andrew and bite his head off, she couldn't because she knew Andrew was at least partly right. Mary let out a long sigh, and then she ran her fingers through her hair and told him honestly, "I'm sorry, Andrew. I understand why you feel so frustrated. I know I've canceled a lot of our dates because so many unexpected things have come up with Murray and the kids at the last minute. However, I can't help but believe that if things were really meant to be between us, you would understand that Murray and I have been close friends for over seven years now and that it would be heartless of me not to be there for him and the kids at a time like this. Six months ago, Murray lost his wife of over twenty-one years. Bonnie, Ellen, Le Chan, and Susie lost their mother. I'm sorry if you feel like I've been neglecting you, Andrew, but I cannot and I will not abandon Murray and the kids just to make you happy. That's not who I am."

Andrew then let out a long sigh, and he looked into Mary's eyes and told her softly, "So be it. I'll get my coat and head out."

"Yes, please do," Mary said rather icily, and in the following moments, Andrew grabbed his coat and walked out Mary's door.

* * *

It was ten-thirty that night when Mary got back home from Murray's house, and as soon as she got her coat off and sat down on the couch, she picked up the phone and called her best friend, Rhoda Morgenstern. They'd met over seven years ago when Mary first moved to Minneapolis, and then around two and a half years ago, Rhoda moved back to New York, fell in love, and got married. Since then, her marriage broke up, and much to Mary's delight, she decided to return to Minneapolis a couple of months ago. An apartment two floors down from Mary's became available soon after Rhoda returned, and Rhoda had been living there ever since. And Rhoda had always been a real night owl, so Mary knew she didn't have to worry about waking her when she called.

"Hey, Rhoda? Would you mind coming up to my apartment for a couple of minutes?" asked Mary. A few moments later, Mary said, "Thank you so much. Bye-bye."

Five minutes later, Rhoda was sitting with Mary on her couch and was _more _than ready to start discussing her romantic life.

"It was the craziest thing. It just came out of nowhere. I mean, like I told Andrew earlier tonight, I know a lot of unexpected things have come up with Murray and the kids and I don't blame him for getting frustrated, but at the same time, how could he not have an ounce of compassion for what Murray and the kids have been going through these past six months?"

"Jealous, insecure men _never _have an ounce of compassion, Mar," Rhoda said sympathetically. "Face it. He wasn't the one."

"I know; I know. And I basically told him the same thing this evening. If Andrew really were the man for me, I believe he would have understood why I had to be there for little Susie tonight. I really do."

"So do I. Don't feel bad, Mary. Sounds like you didn't lose much."

"I don't think I did. You know, when I'm dating a guy and we break up, sometimes I feel sad and heartbroken and terrible about it. Other times, I actually feel relieved. Even though I really thought I liked Andrew in the beginning, now that it's over between us, I feel relieved. I think I'm actually glad it's over now."

"Of course you are. And do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because your heart was never in it. You were trying to convince yourself it was, but it really wasn't. Your heart never belonged to Andrew, and I think that deep down, you both knew that all along."

After pondering it for several moments, Mary confessed, "You know something, Rhoda? You're right. I liked Andrew, but…I don't know…it's like there was always something holding me back."

"Murray."

"What about Murray?"

"Don't you get it, Mar? Do I really have to spell it out for you?" Rhoda asked with a chuckle.

"I wish you would."

"You haven't been spending all this time with Murray and the kids just because you feel sorry for them after they lost their wife and mother. You've been spending so much time with Murray because you really do have feelings for him."

Mary blushed beet red for a brief instant, and then she said, "_Me _having feelings for _Murray?! _Come on, Rhoda! That's ridiculous!"

"Is it? You talk about him all the time. You think about him all the time. And I've seen that little look you get in your eyes whenever Murray comes around here."

"What 'little look'?"

"You know. That cute, giddy little schoolgirl look. Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree whenever Murray's around."

"Rhoda, I would never think of Murray in that way. His poor wife isn't even cold in her grave yet!"

"I'm not saying that you would think of making a move on Murray right now, Mar. I know you have more class than that. But what I _am _saying is that the human heart has a mind of its own. You can't help it if you have feelings for him. And despite what you say, I believe that you really are falling in love with Murray and you just haven't admitted it to yourself yet."

"And I still say it's ridiculous. Murray and I have worked side by side in the newsroom for nearly eight years now. We've been the best of friends for ages. And in all the time we've spent together, I never once thought of Murray that way."

"You never allowed yourself to think of Murray that way because he was a married man with children and you've always been too sweet and decent to be a homewrecker. But things are different now. What happened to Marie was absolutely tragic and we all feel terrible, but it's a cold hard fact that now, like it or not, Murray _is _available. Like I said, I know that you would never make a move on Murray right now, and I respect you for that. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't either. But that doesn't mean that you can't allow yourself to admit the truth about how you feel, and wait until a more appropriate time to tell Murray what your real feelings are."

"Rhoda, what you're saying is crazy," Mary insisted. "I am _not _in love with Murray. I can't be."

"Why not? People always say that opposites attract, but I think it's a load of garbage. I think that in order for a man and a woman to be truly compatible for each other, they have to have as much in common with one another as possible. And just look at you and Murray. You're both sensitive and gentle. You're both intelligent. You both have a passion for journalism and the news. You guys can spend hours on end just talking and laughing together. You two just fit together so well. You're perfect for each other. You're just scared to admit it. You're afraid to face how you really feel inside."

"Okay, Ms.-Know-It-All. Since you seem to have all the answers, tell me this: why am I afraid to face how I _supposedly _feel about Murray?"

Right on the ball, Rhoda immediately told her, "I'm glad you asked that. You're afraid to admit that you're falling for Murray for two reasons. One, just thinking about it makes you feel guilty because of his wife's untimely passing. And two, you're afraid of change."

"Afraid of change?"

"That's right, Mar. After all, like you said, you and Murray have been coworkers and close friends for almost eight years now. If, say in a few months from now, you were to go to Murray and tell him how you feel and you guys decided to start dating, and then things didn't work out between you, your friendship and your professional relationship could be completely destroyed. Making this kind of a change in your life comes with some very big risks attached, and those risks scare you. You'd much rather just stay inside your nice warm comfort zone where it's safe."

"That is not true!" Mary insisted.

"It's _absolutely _true, Mary, and you know it."

"Oh, come on! Me and Murray?"

"You and Murray," Rhoda said stubbornly, refusing to back down.

"Rhoda, I can tell you with absolute certainty that I am _not _in love with Murray."

* * *

"I'm in love with Murray!" Mary cried out in Mr. Grant's office that Friday, sitting in her usual chair across the desk from him. "Rhoda and I talked about this Monday night right after Andrew and I broke up, and she told me that the reason why things didn't work out between Andrew and me is because I'm starting to have feelings for Murray. I didn't believe it. I _couldn't _believe it. But I've been thinking very hard about what she said, Mr. Grant, and I've realized that she's right about everything she told me Monday night."

Lou Grant, the gruff but tenderhearted boss who was a second father to Mary, carefully studied her face and remained calm.

"What all did Rhoda tell you?"

"She told me that I was in love with Murray but that I was too afraid to admit it to myself because it made me feel guilty because of Marie's recent passing and because I was scared of change. Well like I said, I've really been thinking about all of this, and I've realized that Rhoda is right. _I am _in love with Murray, Mr. Grant. He's so kind and giving and gentle and intelligent and witty. He's got the biggest, most loving heart I've ever seen. He's a wonderful man, and I have so much respect for him, and I know he has just as much respect in his heart for me."

"Let me see if I get this straight. You love Murray."

"Yes."

"You respect Murray."

"Yes."

"And not only do you love and respect Murray. You're _in love _with him."

"Absolutely."

"And as everyone at WJM already knows, Murray has loved you, respected you, and been in love with you for ages now."

"Well…yes, I suppose so," Mary quietly admitted, feeling guilty because they all knew Murray had developed feelings for Mary long before Marie died.

"Mary, I don't see the problem here," said Lou. "If you had fallen in love with Murray while Marie was still alive, then there would be a problem. But Marie's been gone for months now and Lord knows it's not easy for a single man to raise four kids all on his own. We were all devastated when Marie was killed by that drunk driver six months ago. She was a very sweet lady and she didn't deserve to have her life ripped away by a drunk driver like that. But Murray is a good man and he has a right to move on with his life and be happy, and his children have a right to have a mother figure in their lives who loves them as much as you do. And you have a right to find happiness too."

"But Mr. Grant, there are other things to consider. Besides the fact that I don't think the timing is right, there is our professional relationship that I have to think about. As the producer of our show, I have a responsibility to the newsroom. What if things don't work out? What if Murray and I end up having such a painful, nasty break-up that our professional relationship and our friendship is completely ruined?"

"Mary, you told me one time that you've been dating since you were seventeen years-old."

"That's right."

"You're thirty-eight now. That's twenty-one years of dating and searching for love. If you want to play the 'What if?' game, then ask yourself this. What if, after twenty-one years of searching, it turns out that Murray really is the man I've been looking for all my life? What if Murray and I really could have a beautiful, deep, meaningful relationship that makes us both better people in the process but it never happens because I give in to my fear and allow my fear to rob me of it?"

After a long pause, Mary finally locked her eyes with Lou's and told him, "You're right, Mr. Grant. You're absolutely right. Thank you."

They both got up from their seats then, and Lou said, "Anytime."

Mary smiled, and then she left Lou's office.

* * *

After work was over that day, Mary invited Murray over to her apartment for dinner, and naturally, he accepted. He called the babysitter and let her know that he would be late getting home that night and then he followed Mary home in his car. Mary quickly whipped up some dinner for both of them, and the romantic tension between them was as thick as a knife as they both raced through their meal. Murray could feel it in his gut that this dinner between the two of them was not like all the other meals they'd had together through the years. He didn't know what exactly was going through Mary's mind, but he _knew _something was very different about Mary tonight. And as for Mary, she couldn't help but think back on the time when she'd asked Mr. Grant out on a date. Their evening together had been hopelessly awkward because even though they loved one another as friends, they just didn't have any feelings for each other romantically. This evening with Murray, however, was very different. They were rushing through their meal together because they were both on the same emotional wavelength inside. Murray knew Mary had something important to tell him, and while he didn't know for sure what it was, a part of him was silently hoping inside that they were both thinking the same thing.

After they finished eating, Mary and Murray were just standing together in Mary's living room, and the tension increased even more.

"Murray?" Mary said quietly as her heart pounded away in her chest.

"Yes, Mary?" Murray responded as his heart rate and respiration rate also sped up.

After a long pause, Mary finally said, "Murray, in times like these, I often get nervous and I beat around the bush and it takes me forever to say what I want to say. Sometimes I even stammer."

"I know," Murray said with a smile. "And I think it's adorable."

"Thanks," Mary whispered, and again they smiled at one another, and their eyes locked. Several moments later, Mary said, "Gee, that's funny. I'm not beating around the bush, I'm not talking about other subjects, and I'm not stammering. But still, I'm just standing here, not saying what it is I want to say, and I guess that's just as bad. So, okay. I'll quit pausing and I'll quit putting it off and I'll just shoot straight from the hip and tell you how I feel."

"Okay, Mar," Murray responded as his heart continued pounding away in his chest.

"Okay. Here goes. Murray, you and I have been friends – _close _friends – for almost eight years now."

"Yes, we have been."

"During that time, you and I have become very close."

"Very close," Murray agreed.

"Oh Murray, I…listen, I realize that this is probably very bad timing. I know that it's only been six months since you lost Marie. But I've just got to tell you how I feel. I can't keep it in any longer. Murray, I'm in love with you. I don't expect you to do anything crazy. I don't expect you to just grab me and kiss me or anything. I don't expect you to want to start a romantic relationship with me now. I'm not telling you this because I want you to start dating me. I understand that this is a very difficult time for you and the kids. I just had to be completely honest with you and tell you how I feel. I just wanted and needed for you to know the truth. And I want you to know that I will always be there for you and the kids. No matter what."

"Mary, I…I don't know what to say," Murray gasped as a solitary tear escaped from one of his eyes. "Had you told me this before I lost Marie, I probably would have run away with you somewhere. I've been madly in love with you for so long. But after Marie died, it began to hit me how unfair I've been to her, especially in the last couple of years of our marriage. Marie was a truly wonderful woman, Mary."

"She certainly was," Mary agreed.

"She devoted her whole life to taking care of me and our children. She loved us with all her heart. She poured everything she had into us. And how did I repay her? I allowed myself to fall out of love with her, and I fell in love with you instead." The instant Murray said that, obvious guilt flashed across Mary's face.

"It was never your fault," he immediately reassured her. "When I admitted to you that I'd fallen in love with you a couple of years ago, you turned me down because you knew how wrong it would've been for us to pursue a romantic relationship. You're a good woman, Mary. You're kind and decent and you're full of integrity. I was disappointed when you told me in so many words that things couldn't go anywhere between the two of us, but I wasn't surprised because I knew you were not the kind of woman to get romantically involved with a married man with four kids. And in fact, although I was disappointed when you turned me down a couple of years ago, it actually made me respect you even more than I already did.

"But since Marie was killed in that terrible accident six months ago, it's made me realize that I didn't give her everything I could have emotionally. Marie was always in love with me and she built her whole world around our children and me and our home. But me? I allowed my affections to become divided between Marie and you, and that was terribly unfair to her. I may have provided for Marie and the kids financially all these years, but I didn't always provide for Marie the way I should have _emotionally_. I see that now. And even though I am still in love with you, Mary – _deeply _in love – I can't get romantically involved with you. At least not now. It would just be too disrespectful to Marie's memory for me to start dating you so soon after her death."

Fighting off tears herself, Mary responded, "Murray, you don't owe me any explanations. And like I said, I didn't tell you what I told you just now because I wanted us to start dating. I just simply wanted you to know the truth; that's all."

"I understand, Mary. And I appreciate your honesty. I really do. I have to tell you that after everything the kids and I have been through these past few months, it makes me feel absolutely wonderful to know how much you care for me."

"I'm so glad, Murr."

"I do want us to be together someday, Mary. I want you to know that. I just need some time."

Mary then took a step closer to Murray, took his hands in hers, and told him, "You take all the time you need. I'll wait as long as you need me to."

"I owe it to Marie not to do anything that would disrespect her memory."

"Oh Murray, I understand. I really do. Like I said, you take all the time you need."

"Thank you, Mary."

"Of course."

After a short pause, Murray said, "Hey Mary, can I ask you something?"

"Certainly."

"While you're waiting…you won't date other guys, will you?"

"Of course not."

Murray nodded, and then he and Mary just stood there for several long, tense moments. Finally, they just grabbed each other and held onto one another so tightly. While they were embracing, Murray planted a firm kiss on Mary's cheek and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Mary Richards."

The embrace ended then, and Mary told Murray, "I love you, too."


	2. The Phone Call

**A/N: **Please see Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **One year after his wife's death, Murray decides that it's okay to begin dating Mary; ten months later, Mary receives disturbing news about her uncle.

**Chapter 2: The Phone Call**

It was a pleasant Thursday evening in mid-March, and Bonnie had been home all week for spring break. Murray's two youngest children, twelve-year-old Le Chan and eight-year-old Susie, had gone to bed for the night, and he was sitting in his living room watching television with Bonnie and his fifteen-year-old daughter, Laura Ellen (who was often called by her middle name, but was sometimes referred to as Laurie.) When the movie they'd been watching ended at eleven, Murray decided to talk with his two oldest children about something that had been on his mind a lot lately.

After turning off the TV set, Murray said, "Hey Bonnie, Laurie, there's something I want to talk to the two of you about for a moment, okay?"

"Sure, Dad," Ellen responded.

"Of course, Daddy. What's up?" asked Bonnie.

"Well, um…you girls know that ever since your mother died about a year ago, Mary's been there for all of us every second."

"We know that, Daddy," Bonnie concurred.

"And we really like Mary," Ellen told Murray. "She's a very sweet lady. And she's been very good to us."

"Yes, she certainly has been," Murray agreed with a big smile. He then cleared his throat and said, "Well anyway, girls, the reason I'm talking to you about Mary is because…well…how would you feel if she and I were to start dating? Do you think it would be inappropriate? Do you think it's too soon since your mother…?"

"Dad, you're being silly," said Bonnie.

"Yeah, Dad," Ellen agreed. "You worry way too much."

"Exactly," said Bonnie. "We all miss Mom so much, but turning yourself into some sort of monk isn't going to bring Mom back."

"And you need companionship too," said Ellen. "And we've seen you and Mary together. It's obvious you guys are perfect for each other."

"I agree," said Bonnie. "If Mom can't be here with us and you can't be with Mom, then Mary is exactly the kind of woman I'd want you to be with. She's so thoughtful and giving and kind and gentle, and she's crazy about Susie and Le Chan and they're crazy about her. And you two have so much in common," said Bonnie.

"I think Bonnie's right, Dad," said Ellen. "Just imagine for a second if the shoe were on the other foot, and it had been you we lost last year and Mom was trying to take care of all of us all by herself. Think about how difficult and lonely it would be for her. Wouldn't you want Mom to have a good man in her life to help shoulder the burden? Wouldn't you want Mom to have love and companionship in her life?"

"Of course I would," Murray replied without a moment's hesitation.

"And I'm pretty sure that that's probably how Mom feels now in heaven," said Bonnie.

"She wouldn't want you to be alone, Dad," said Ellen. "I'm positive she wouldn't have any problems with you dating Mary."

Murray smiled then, and he got up and walked over to where both girls were sitting on the couch, and he bent down and kissed each of them on the cheek. In the next moment, he looked down at them and said, "Girls, you're beautiful."

Bonnie and Ellen looked at one another and smiled, and then Bonnie told Murray, "Thanks, Dad."

Murray smiled once again, and then he decided to turn in for the night while Bonnie and Ellen chose to stay up and watch another movie.

* * *

Around three weeks later, on the tenth of April, Murray took Mary out for a wonderful night on the town to celebrate her thirty-ninth birthday. He took her to the finest French restaurant in Minneapolis, and then he took her out to enjoy a performance of the local orchestra. Afterwards, on their way to Mary's high rise apartment, they took a walk through the park. The sun was setting and although the sky was mostly dark now, there was still a touch of dark purple in the night sky above them and it really took Mary's breath away.

"Oh Murr, tonight's been just wonderful," Mary beamed as she walked side by side with Murray through the park. Murray looked terrific in his black tuxedo, and Mary was a vision in her long-sleeved floor-length burgundy gown.

"I'm so glad to hear that, Mar," Murray told her with a warm smile. "I wanted to make absolutely certain that this would be a birthday you would never forget."

"And it has been. It's been terrific. The food, the champagne, the orchestra. I've loved every minute of it."

"And the night's not over yet. I've got one more surprise for you tonight, Mary."

"_Another _surprise? Are you serious?"

"Very serious. Mary, look up."

"Look up? Looking up at the stars? Is that the surprise?"

Murray laughed and replied, "Just trust me, Mary. Look up for a couple of moments."

Mary shrugged her shoulders and said, "Alright."

And in the next moment, Mary looked up. After a couple of seconds passed, fireworks suddenly went off in the sky above, and the colorful explosions over their heads formed into a big heart. Inside the multicolored heart, Mary could clearly see the words, _I love you, Mary_.

Mary then cried out in delight and said aloud, "Murray, that was beautiful!"

Murray laughed, and when Mary threw her arms around him, he held her close and savored the warmth of her embrace and the delightful smell of her perfume. Murray, still holding onto Mary, whispered in her ear a moment later, "Happy birthday, Mary."

In that instant, they gazed deeply into each other's eyes, and utterly unable to resist it any longer, Murray pressed his lips to Mary's and gave her the hardest, most passionate kiss of his life. Mary made no effort to resist and in fact, returned the kiss with an equal amount of passion.

When the long kiss finally ended several moments later, both their hearts were just pounding away inside them. It was the most incredible feeling of their lives.

"You're amazing, Mary," Murray whispered. "You really are."

"And you're beautiful," Mary said so softly and sweetly as Murray's heart just melted.

"Mary, do you remember a few months ago when you told me that you'd fallen in love with me, and then I said I wanted to wait until more time had passed before I started dating again?"

"Of course I remember."

"Well, I talked with all the kids about it. You know Le Chan and Susie can't get enough of you, so they're all for the idea of you and me seeing each other, not as friends but as a couple."

"Right."

"And when Bonnie was home for spring break three weeks ago, I also had a good talk with her and with Ellen about us, and they feel the same way. It's been over a year now since Marie's death, and as much as it will always hurt not to have her with us anymore, at the same time, we all have to move on with our lives. Myself included. And I think it's time I did. And I also think that I've kept you waiting long enough."

"I understand what you're saying, Murray. And you're right. You and the kids do have to move on, even though that can sometimes be a very difficult thing. You just have to remember, and you have to make sure that the kids understand, that just because you have to move on with your lives, it doesn't mean that you're forgetting Marie or that you've stopped loving her."

"Thank you for saying that, Mary."

"It's just the truth, Murr."

"I know, but still, thank you for saying it. You have no idea what a comfort you've been, to me, to all of us, ever since we lost Marie last year. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't been there, Mary. I don't know what we'd ever do without you."

"You _never _have to worry about that, Murray," Mary told him in all seriousness, and then once again, she and Murray kissed for the longest time.

* * *

The next ten months flew by in a whirlwind. Mary and Murray did practically everything together when they weren't at work, and even work was a joy because they had each other there. Murray frequently took Mary out on the town, which she loved, and they were always going to the park or the mall or the movies with the kids as well. Mary also took Murray out to lunch on numerous occasions with her parents, and they got along with Murray very nicely. Murray's mother and stepfather were rarely in town, but they did come to Minneapolis for Thanksgiving that year and Mary met them then, and they were instantly delighted with her. Of course, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows _all _the time. Like any other couple, Mary and Murray had their occasional spats, but thankfully they never lasted too long. By this point in their lives, they'd both learned not to get too caught up over little things that really didn't matter in the long-run.

One snowy Saturday morning in February, Mary had invited Murray, Mr. Grant, Rhoda, and Rebecca Jordan, Ted's replacement, over for breakfast. They all enjoyed the good food and conversation, and then after everyone was done eating, they sat down in Mary's living room together and continued talking.

"You know, Rebecca," said Mr. Grant while drinking a cup of coffee, "I've really got to hand it to you. Ever since you came to WJM a couple of years ago, things haven't been the same. When Ted was the anchorman, our news show was a joke. Thanks to you, _The Six O'clock News _is an actual competitor in the ratings now against other news shows. Thanks to you, now, people actually take our program seriously."

Rebecca, a tall, slim, beautiful young black lady who had just turned twenty-five, smiled at Mr. Grant and told him, "A compliment like that from Lou Grant is no small thing. Thank you very much for saying that, Mr. Grant."

"Oh, it's absolutely true, Rebecca," Mary chimed in. "And it's a compliment you've earned. Ted is our friend and we do miss him, but the cold hard fact of the matter is, he was killing our show, and you saved it."

"Ted kills everything he touches. He's the exact opposite of King Midas. Everything King Midas touched turned to gold. Everything Ted touches turns to rot and decay," Murray teased.

"Oh, Murray!" Mary scolded him with a bit of a laugh in her voice.

"No, it's true," Murray insisted.

"Well Rebecca, I have to agree with everybody here," said Rhoda. "You really did save the WJM news show. Before when I lived in Minneapolis and Ted was the anchorman, I never actually watched the show to hear the news. I watched it to see what ridiculous thing Ted was going to come up with next. I watched it for laughs. Now, thanks to you, I'm actually able to take the show seriously."

"Well I do have to say that coming to work at WJM has been a dream come true for me. I mean, when I first got the job, I was twenty-three. I was fresh out of college. It was like hitting the jackpot. Every journalism student's dream. And sometimes you have to make some sacrifices for the sake of your dream, but in the end, it's always worth it."

"If I may ask, what sacrifices are you talking about, Rebecca?" asked Mary.

"Oh, it's nothing, really. It's just…you see, I've been dating this guy for a while named George. And while I really do care for him, he's one of those guys who believes that 'a woman's place is in the home.' He recently asked me to marry him, but I had to turn him down because I knew that if I said yes, he would expect me to quit my job at WJM and be a housewife. And I'm sorry, but I did _not _work my butt off so many years at two part-time jobs to put myself through college just so I could throw it all away over a man. Journalism runs through my veins; it's in my blood, and I am not giving it up just so I can become a man's sex object and live-in maid. When I get married, I'm getting married to a man who supports me in my dreams every bit as much as I support him in his."

"Right on, sister!" said Rhoda.

"Well on behalf of the entire WJM news team, I thank you for telling George no," said Mr. Grant.

"Hear, hear," Murray agreed.

After a brief pause in the conversation, Mary, who was sitting beside Murray on the sofa, looked at him and said, "Hey, Murr?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Perhaps it's not appropriate for me to ask you this here out in the open in front of everyone, but what Rebecca said just now about George got me thinking. If you and I get married someday, would you expect me to quit my job at WJM and stay at home?"

Murray instantly laughed and responded, "Hey, Mary, come on. Don't be silly. I'd never expect that of you."

"He'd better not," said Mr. Grant in his best warning voice while locking his eyes with Murray's.

"Are you kidding? You're a wonderful producer, and on top of that, I know how much your work in the newsroom means to you. It means a lot to all of us. I'd never be stupid enough to try to take you away from that, Mary."

"Aw, Murr," Mary said sweetly, and then they leaned in and started kissing.

"Oh Lord help us. Here they go again," Rebecca teased.

Rhoda chuckled and said, "I know they're always like this during their off hours. Don't tell me they're this bad in the newsroom too!"

"Oh yeah," Rebecca confirmed while they continued kissing.

"They're even worse in the newsroom," Mr. Grant teased. "It's a miracle they get any work done at all."

Their long kiss finally ended a few minutes later, and then everyone continued talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other's company over the next couple of hours before they said goodbye and left Mary and Murray alone. Or, that is, _they thought _they would be alone for a while, but then Rhoda returned for a couple of minutes to bring Mary her mail. After Mary thanked Rhoda and chatted with her for another minute or so, Rhoda said goodbye once again so that Mary and Murray could finally be alone.

"Ah, look at this," said Mary as she was going through her letters. "It's a letter from Georgette."

"Hey, terrific," Murray said with a smile. While Ted Baxter had always been utterly obnoxious, his wife Georgette was very sweet (and longsuffering) and everybody really loved her. "Open it, Mar. See what it says."

"Okay," said Mary as she opened Georgette's letter and began to read it. A few moments later, she told Murray, "Georgette says that Ted is still in love with his job in New York hosting that game show."

"Well that's no surprise. Everything is a game to Ted anyway," Murray quipped.

"And she says that she misses us, but she's still really enjoying life in Manhattan. And she says that David is doing brilliantly in the special school for the gifted they're sending him to."

"Again, not a surprise. David has an I.Q. of one-sixty."

"Aw, Murray, look. Georgette sent some pictures of Mary Lou," Mary announced as she handed Murray the photographs.

"Aw," Murray said with another big smile. "She's really adorable, despite the fact that she's descended from Ted."

"Oh, Murray!" Mary playfully scolded him while giving him a little jab in the arm, and Murray laughed. "You know something?" Mary said a moment later. "I really miss Georgette."

"So do I, Mar. It's very easy to get used to Ted not being here anymore, but Georgette was always a real ray of sunshine."

"I know. It's just not the same around here anymore without her. But then again, Georgette and the kids sure seem to be doing well in New York, and we all know Ted is, so that's the most important thing, I suppose."

"Yeah. Underneath all his bluster, Ted really is a good guy. He just wasn't cut out to be a newsman."

"Right. But he sure was cut out to be a game show host, though. That career fits him perfectly."

"Agreed."

Mary was about to say something else in that moment, but then the phone rang. Mary answered it then, and it was her father, Dr. Walter Richards. At first the conversation started out nice and pleasant and normal, and Murray was certain it was just a typical father/daughter discussion. However, about a minute or so into the conversation, it became obvious that something was terribly wrong. They continued talking for another couple of minutes, and then they said goodbye. After Mary put the receiver back on its cradle, she walked over to the couch, totally dazed, and sat down and buried her head in her hands. Murray immediately sat down next to her and put a loving arm around her shoulders.

"What is it, Mary?" Murray asked with obvious tenderness and concern. "What's wrong?"

Mary took a moment to catch her breath and clear her head, and she wiped a couple of tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She then looked at Murray and told him, "As you know, that was my father on the phone. He, uh…he just gave me some pretty bad news."

"Mary, what is it?" Murray asked with even more concern in his voice.

"My Uncle John, my father's older brother, was just diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. He's dying."


	3. One Month

**A/N: **Please see Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Mary goes to Dallas with her father to visit her uncle; after Mary returns to Minneapolis, she receives a frightening diagnosis.

**Chapter 3: One Month**

"I can't believe it, Murr," Mary said while she nervously paced. "I just can't believe it. I feel like I've been punched in the gut."

"Mary, I don't know what to say," Murray whispered as he rose from his seat. "I'm sorry, Mary. I'm so very sorry. You've told me stories about your Uncle John and how close you were to him throughout your childhood. I know this is a terrible blow. I just wish I knew what I could do to help."

"You know, it's really kind of crazy. My dad and my Uncle John are brothers. They're so close in age, they're practically twins. My Uncle John is just ten months older than my father. They both grew up to become surgeons. But beyond the facts that they're biologically related and had the same career, they have practically nothing in common with each other. Their personalities couldn't be more different. Don't get me wrong; I love my dad very much, but for some reason, Dad's always been so emotionally detached from Mom and me my whole life. He just never could seem to learn how to balance his medical career and his family life. But my Uncle John was always there. He was never too busy for me. He really filled the void that Dad left in my life. I was never able to really have the kind of father/daughter connection with Dad that I yearned to have, but I always had that connection with my Uncle John. He really was my second father when I was a kid. And his wife, my Aunt Chloe, was also a second mother to me as well. I always loved spending time with them, and I almost think that they might have enjoyed their time with me even more. You know, I told you before that my Uncle John and my Aunt Chloe weren't able to have children of their own, so that's probably why they were so close to me for so many years. I was heartbroken when they moved away to Dallas when I was fourteen."

"They're still living in Dallas now, aren't they?"

"Yes. They're still in Dallas. And speaking of Dallas, Daddy mentioned that Uncle John really wants to see me now. He wants both Daddy and me to go to Texas to visit him, and you know I've got some vacation time coming."

"Yeah, we talked about this a couple of months ago. I'm not eligible for vacation time until July of this year."

"I know we were planning on taking our vacation together in July and going to Hawaii with the kids, but–"

"Don't say another word about it, Mary. I understand how important it is for you to go to Texas to visit your uncle now."

"Boy, I just can't believe it. I cannot _believe _this is happening," said Mary as more tears came to her eyes. Murray quickly responded by pulling Mary into his arms and holding her close.

* * *

One week later, Mary took her vacation time and left Minneapolis with her father to visit her Uncle John and her Aunt Chloe in Dallas. They had a lovely two-bedroom house there, and Mary's father slept in their guest bedroom while Mary slept on their living room couch. Mary and Dr. Richards spent their first day in Dallas unwinding and settling in, but then the second day of their visit, which was on a Monday, John sat down in his living room with his niece and younger brother and had a very serious discussion with them.

"Walt, Mary, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm just going to come straight to the point. Mary, I don't want to scare you, but I'm not going to hide the truth from you either. Walt, you too are a physician, so what I'm about to say is not anything that you don't already know yourself. Pancreatic cancer does tend to run in families. That means that both of you are at an increased risk of developing pancreatic cancer yourselves at some point in your lives."

"Yes, I realize that, John," Walt said gravely.

"Walt, I know that you and Dottie and Mary all go to the same family doctor, Dr. Barrows. Well, I called him last Friday and we had a good talk, and I expressed my concerns to him about both of you, and he agreed with me that it's better to be safe than sorry. So, I took the liberty of making an appointment for the two of you to go in and see him two weeks from now, after you return to Minneapolis."

"Well, uh…okay. I understand you wanting Daddy and me to go see Dr. Barrows to get tested, and I appreciate your concern so much. We both do. But Uncle John, you shouldn't be worrying about us right now. Daddy and I are here for _you._"

John, a tall, slim, white-haired man with blue eyes and glasses, responded to his niece with a kind-natured laugh and told her, "Mary, my girl, you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine. I really am. I've lived a long, fulfilling, blessed life. And it is my good fortune to be able to say that Jesus has used me to do some real good in this world. He called me to what is, in my humble opinion, the most rewarding profession there is. I've been able to help a lot of people in my time. And if I could, I wouldn't change a thing. I have no regrets. And I'm ready for what's coming next. But still, I don't want what's happening to me to happen to either one of you. Your physical health is a very valuable thing, and you have to take care of it. And again, Walt, as a physician yourself, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."

"You're right, John. You're absolutely right," Wat whispered, clearly fighting back tears.

"So, you made an appointment for Daddy and me to go in to see Dr. Barrows for some kind of tests for pancreatic cancer?" asked Mary.

"Yes. Not too long ago, when doctors suspected that a patient had some type of cancer, often they would diagnose it by doing what's called exploratory surgery, meaning that they would simply cut a patient open and look and see for themselves if there was any cancer there. But today, we have imaging technology called CAT scans that can take detailed pictures of a person's internal organs and detect cancer or other abnormalities. I'm certain that when you go to see Dr. Barrows in a couple of weeks, he'll make arrangements for each of you to have CAT scans done. However, CAT scans are still a very new diagnostic tool. Walt, you may want to consider talking to Dr. Barrows about the possibility of having exploratory surgery as well, just to make absolutely certain that everything is alright," he suggested. When he saw the heightened concern on Mary's face in the next moment, he explained, "You see Mary, I think it's wise that we take extra precautions with your father because he's considerably older than you are. And again, I don't want to scare you, but I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you either. The risk of pancreatic cancer increases with age. I still want you to be tested just to be on the safe side, but given the fact that you're still young, I'm confident that you're perfectly healthy. Walt, because of your age and the fact that you now have a brother with pancreatic cancer, I think you're the one we really need to worry about."

"You don't have to worry about me, John," Walt said quietly. "I'm going to be just fine."

"I'm sure you will be, but take Mary to see your family doctor and get checked out anyway, huh?"

"Of course I will."

"I don't have to explain this to you, Walt. You already know this. But Mary, you should know that the reason I'm so insistent on you and your father going to get checked out is because pancreatic cancer is unbelievably insidious. The reason why my cancer progressed to stage four before it was finally diagnosed is because with pancreatic cancer, there are never any symptoms until it's too late; until it's spread to other organs. A person could be living with stage one, stage two, or stage three pancreatic cancer and not have the slightest clue that there's anything wrong with him. That's precisely why it's so important that the two of you go to see Dr. Barrows once you're back in Minneapolis."

"We will, Uncle John. We will," Mary assured him, and then her father, who was clearly getting uncomfortable with the subject matter, quickly steered the conversation in a different direction.

* * *

"When is your doctor's appointment, Mar?" asked Rhoda on a Sunday evening, shortly after Mary returned from her two-week vacation in Dallas. Both Rhoda and Murray had come over to see her, and they were all sitting together on the couch.

"It's tomorrow at twelve-thirty. Dad and I are going to see Dr. Barrows during my lunch hour," Mary explained.

"And your uncle told you that pancreatic cancer runs in families?" asked a very concerned Murray.

"He said that in some cases, yes, it does tend to run in families. But I'm really not worried about myself. I'm a very fit, active, healthy thirty-nine-year-old woman. It's my father I'm worried about. According to Uncle John, Daddy's the one who's really at risk, given his age."

"So the risk of getting pancreatic cancer increases with age, then?" asked Rhoda.

"That's right," Mary confirmed. "Given the fact that we have a family history of pancreatic cancer and the fact that my father is not a young man anymore, I'm very worried about him."

Murray instantly wrapped his arm around Mary's shoulders and told her gently, "Mary, sweetheart, don't worry. Everything is going to be just fine with your dad. I know it."

"Of course it is, kid," said Rhoda. "Dr. Richards may not be a spring chicken anymore, but still, he always eats right and works out and stays in shape. He takes excellent care of himself."

"I know that, you guys. I know. It's still hard not to worry, though. I'm devastated enough just thinking about what my Uncle John and Aunt Chloe are going through. If, God forbid, this is happening to Daddy too, I just…I don't know what I'll do," Mary said in an emotional whisper, fighting back tears. Not really knowing how to respond, Rhoda simply took Mary's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze while Murray rubbed her back.

* * *

Their visit with Dr. Barrows was short and sweet. They had a brief discussion about the issue at hand, and then he had his receptionist schedule an appointment at one of the larger local hospitals for each of them to go in for CAT scans the next day. Dottie Richards accompanied her husband and daughter to the hospital when they went in for their CAT scans the following afternoon. Given his prestigious accomplishments as a surgeon, the hospital obviously allowed Walt to see his and Mary's scans for himself. And when Dottie saw her husband again a few minutes later after he'd returned to one of the exam rooms, it terrified her because he was as white as a sheet.

"Walt, what is it? What's wrong?" she anxiously questioned him.

Before he could answer his wife, Dr. Jamison, a colleague of Dr. Barrows on call at the hospital that day, entered the room.

"Good news, Dr. Richards," the bald, heavyset, middle-aged doctor told him. "Your scans look perfectly normal. You're in good shape."

"Yes, I saw mine and my daughter's scans for myself. I know _I'm _in good shape, Dr. Jamison. But our daughter isn't."

"Oh, God," Dottie gasped as tears filled her eyes.

"Yes. Your daughter's scans do look suspicious," said Dr. Jamison.

"Dr. Jamison, you don't have to beat around the bush with me. I was a surgeon for over forty years before I finally retired. When I looked at the CAT scans of my daughter's pancreas a few minutes ago, I knew exactly what it was I was seeing."

"What _were _you seeing, Walter?" asked Dottie as more tears streamed down her face.

Walter then turned to face his wife, and he looked her straight in the eyes and told her truthfully, "Dottie, there's a small growth on Mary's pancreas."

"Is it cancerous?" Dottie gasped.

Dr. Walter Richards, a surgeon of over forty years, couldn't bring himself to answer his wife's question. Instead, a single, solitary tear fell from one of his eyes, and Dottie knew that that tear was the answer to her question. It was in that moment that Dottie just let herself completely collapse into her husband's arms and break down sobbing.

"Dr. Jamison, will you do me favor?" he asked while clinging to his wife.

"Certainly, Dr. Richards."

"Let me be the one to break the news to my daughter."

"Of course. She's in the exam room across the hall. I'll go get her now."

"Thank you, doctor," Walt whispered.

As soon as Dr. Jamison left the room, Walt pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dried Dottie's eyes.

"Dottie, listen to me," he told her gently. "I know how hard it is, but we've got to be strong for our little girl right now, okay?"

Dottie nodded and said, "I know that, Walt. I know that. I will be."

Walt responded by giving her a tender kiss on the forehead, and then he wiped the tears from his own eyes as well and composed himself.

In the next moment, Mary came bouncing into the room, chipper as usual, wearing a smile.

"Hey Dad, Dr. Jamison just told me that your scans were clear. That's such great news."

Forcing a smile, Walt looked at Mary and said, "Yes, it is. Um…sweetheart…will you sit down with your mother and me for a second?"

"Sure," Mary responded, and then Walt and Dottie sat down in the two chairs beside the exam table, and Mary sat down on the side of the exam table, facing her parents. "What is it, Daddy?" she asked then. "What's going on?"

Dr. Jamison, who was standing right outside the exam room, heard it when Mary suddenly erupted into tears. As a physician himself, he knew better than most just how monumentally difficult it was for a person to beat pancreatic cancer. He knew Dr. Richards's daughter was only thirty-nine, which made this diagnosis even more tragic as she still had so much of her life stretched out in front of her. Thirty-nine was too young, much too young.

Dr. Jamison shook his head then and said to himself, "Poor girl."

* * *

Dr. Richards personally called the newsroom the next day, a Wednesday, and told Mr. Grant that Mary was sick with the flu and wouldn't be able to come to work for the rest of the week. Mary spent that Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday in her parents' apartment, crying inconsolably while Dottie constantly held her and rocked her. Naturally, Murray, Lou, Rhoda, and Rebecca came by a couple of times to see Mary, but knowing that Mary simply was not ready for visitors yet, Dottie told them that Mary was asleep and it was best not to disturb her.

Finally, on that Saturday morning, Mary got dressed and went out. She went to the small church she'd been attending with Murray and his kids ever since they'd started dating eleven months ago. The pastor there, a sweet, heavyset, white-haired grandfather of eight named Daniel Mackey, was sitting at the desk in his office when Mary arrived.

As soon as Mary knocked on the open door to his office and stuck her head in, he gave her the biggest, warmest smile.

"Hello there, Mary," he said kindly. "Come on in. Have a seat."

"Thank you, Daniel," Mary responded as she walked in and sat down. It was one of the many things that she really liked about this man. Even though he had a doctorate of theology, he never got hung up on titles and he always insisted on being on a first-name basis with every member of his congregation. He was a truly humble man.

"So what can I do for you today, Mary?" he asked her with a pleasant smile.

Over the next twenty minutes, Mary basically just poured her heart out to the kindhearted old pastor and told him everything. She told him all about what was happening with her Uncle John, and then she explained everything that had happened over the past week with hers and her father's CAT scans.

"According to Daddy, he thinks we really caught a break," she told him. "He says that the mass still looks very small on the CAT scan. And even though he is retired, he's made arrangements with the hospital for him to perform the surgery to remove it. He's going to do something called the Whipple procedure. He's personally performed the Whipple procedure several times throughout his surgical career, more than any other surgeon in Minnesota, as a matter of fact, so there's no one more qualified than Daddy to do it."

"Praise the Lord for that. It sounds like you'll be in excellent hands."

"Yeah," Mary sighed.

"When will your father be performing the procedure?"

"Well…that's where we start getting into problems. You see, Daddy wants to do the procedure right away. But the thing is, the Whipple procedure is a very complicated surgery. Much of your digestive system is rewired during the procedure. And it can take weeks, even months, to fully recover from it. Some people even die on the operating table. This is not like going in for a tonsillectomy. This is major surgery, even _dangerous _surgery. And on top of that, Daddy says I'm going to have to go through four to six months of chemotherapy after the surgery, and possibly radiation too. I understand where Dad is coming from, and I know he's right. I understand that out of all the different kinds of cancer there are, pancreatic cancer is one of the most deadly. I understand why Daddy wants to rush in and cut it out of me as soon as possible. I want it out of me, too. I'm just…I'm just not ready to say goodbye to my life yet."

"Mary, I've had people in my congregation who have been diagnosed with various kinds of cancer, and I know from experience how deadly pancreatic cancer can really be. I know what you're dealing with. I've seen it before. I've _also _seen people who have been given a diagnosis of certain death and have managed to beat the odds with the grace of God. I understand that pancreatic cancer is a terribly difficult cancer to beat, but don't give up all hope just yet."

"You misunderstand me, Daniel. When I said that I wasn't ready to say goodbye to my life, I didn't mean that I was giving up all hope of beating my cancer. What I meant was, I realize that after I go under the knife, my entire life as I've known it will never be the same. Right now, I have a normal, happy life that I love. I have Murray and the kids. I have my career at WJM. But as soon as Daddy performs the Whipple procedure, all of that will change and everything in my life will take a backseat to me fighting off my cancer. I'll be a cancer patient first and foremost. And I'm not ready for that kind of life."

"No one is ever ready to become a cancer patient, Mary."

"I know that. But still, I'm not ready to let go of the life I still have. Not yet. I need more time."

"I understand. Cancer, particularly pancreatic cancer, is terribly frightening. I don't blame you for being scared. I know I would be if I were in your shoes."

"May I ask you something, Daniel?"

"Of course."

"Why did God allow something like this to happen to my uncle and me? My uncle is such a wonderful man. He's loved Jesus and walked with Jesus all his life. He's helped care for so many sick and hurting people as a doctor. And as for me, maybe I haven't been as close to the Lord as my uncle has been all these years, but still, I've never been a bad person. I've always been as kind as I know how to be to other people. Why would God punish me with something like this?"

"You mustn't think of this as a punishment, Mary. Things like illness, injury, and death have come into this world as a consequence of sin. In the beginning, God created this world to be a perfect place for humanity to live, and it was. There was no sickness or pain or suffering or death. And it still would be that way today had our father Adam not chosen to disobey God and eat the forbidden fruit. But because he did make that choice, there's been suffering in this world ever since. It was never God's plan or desire for there to be such suffering and cruelty in the world. It was man who made that foolish decision."

"You know, there's something about the creation story that always confused me. If, like you say, it was never God's desire for there to be suffering in the world, then why would He even put the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the Garden of Eden in the first place? Why would He allow that temptation to be there?"

"Because it is not in God's nature to ever force a person to do His will. We're all fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of the Almighty God, Mary. We have a mind and a will just as the good Lord does. And just like God, we too have the ability to think for ourselves and make our own decisions. When Christ created humanity, He didn't create a race of mindless robots. He didn't want humanity to be a bunch of automatons who followed Him because they had no choice. That isn't love. He wanted to love people, and He wanted to give all of us the chance to make up our own minds how to respond to His love.

"Many people don't like to hear what I'm about to tell you, but it's a cold, hard fact that the Almighty God owes us _nothing_. After Adam disobeyed God and sin came into the world, God could have chosen to respond in anger. He could have turned His back on humanity and left us to our own devices and allowed us to die in our sins, but He didn't. He chose instead to be remarkably generous and gracious and patient. He chose to make a perfect plan in His Son, Jesus Christ, to redeem humanity. God never owed that to us. But mercifully, God chose to be kind to humanity and make a way to save us from the eternal penalty of our sins through His only begotten Son. You say you've never been a bad person, Mary. Well, I hate to break it to you, but in the eyes of a perfect, just, and holy God, _everybody _is bad. _No one _can ever reach God's standards on his own. The only possible way anyone can be good enough to have a relationship with God the Father and be allowed into heaven when they die is by trusting in what Jesus did for them through His death on the cross. As soon as a person does that, they receive Christ's perfect righteousness, and every sin they've ever committed or ever will commit is paid for at the cross."

Mary remained quiet for a couple of long moments, but finally, she said, "You know Daniel, all my life, I think my parents and I might have gone to our local Presbyterian church in Roseburg about three times. You can literally count on one hand how many times I was inside a church building when I was a kid. I always thought a relationship with God was something you did on Sundays. I thought it was sitting through a tedious church service every Sunday – no offense."

Daniel chuckled a bit and said, "None taken."

"And I thought it was putting money in the offering plate every Sunday and trying to do good things. I never thought of a relationship with God actually being like any of the other friendships and relationships in my life, you know, where there's warmth and caring. I…I don't know. It just always felt as though God was so distant."

"I assure you, Mary, God is _not _distant. No one cares more than Jesus does. He cares so much, He died the most brutal death imaginable so that anyone who believes in Him can spend eternity with Him. It's not about attending church on Sunday. It's not about what you put in the offering plate. No one can earn eternal life. It's not an earned reward. It's a free gift that none of us deserves. You see, that's what sets Jesus apart from Muhammad or Buddha or any other religion. Every other religion on this earth involves a system of works in which people must try to earn a place in heaven. Every other religion appeals to man's sinful pride, his natural desire to want to take credit for saving himself. Jesus is different. He doesn't cater to our pride and He doesn't tell lies; He tells it like it really is. He tells the truth, that without Him, man is hopelessly wicked and lost. That's why He's so hated throughout the world, because people naturally want to be self-sufficient and take all the credit for earning their own salvation. God's way, the _only _way, which is putting your trust in Jesus Christ to save you from your sins, strips people of their ability to take pride in themselves, and people naturally despise that. But the good news is, as soon as you trust in Jesus to pay the price for your sins based on His perfect sacrifice on the cross, you can have a real relationship with God the Father that is deeper, more loving, and more powerful than anything you could ever imagine. Just think for a moment how much your earthly parents love you. No one has ever loved you more than your mother and your father have, have they?"

"No," Mary answered honestly. Mary had always had a wonderful relationship with her mother, and while her father had always been rather distant, there was never a doubt in Mary's mind about how much he loved her.

"As remarkably deep as a parent's love is for their child, it's a mere drop in the bucket compared to how very much God loves His born-again children through Jesus Christ. I know that you may be feeling abandoned and even betrayed by God right now because He allowed this to happen to you. But as difficult as it is, especially in a time like this, you have to remember that God doesn't owe us an easy, comfortable life where everything constantly goes our way. Nobody likes to hear this, but it's just a cold, hard fact that God does allow us to suffer in our lives, not because He's cold, not because He doesn't care, but because it's the trials in our lives that build up character within us. Suffering produces true character in God's children, and Jesus cares far more about our character than He cares about our comfort. Now's not the time to run away from God. Now is precisely the time to run _to _the Lord and trust Him with all your heart, even though it's hard."

Mary remained silent for several long moments, but then she looked at Daniel and told him, "I don't like what you're saying to me, but yet, I know that I need to hear it. I know deep down in my gut that as hard as it is to accept, every word you've said to me today is for my own good. I won't try to pretend otherwise. I do feel abandoned and betrayed by God right now. But at the same time, I also know that it would be pretty arrogant of me to assume that I had some sort of divine right to live a comfortable, painless life when there are people all over the world who are suffering even more than I am right now. I've lived for thirty-nine years and so far, my life up to this point has been pretty terrific. There are people who have had things a lot harder than I have. I don't know if there's some sort of lesson God is trying to teach me through all of this. I just know that I'm scared out of my mind…and that I really do need Jesus now more than ever."

As soon as Mary admitted that, a dam inside her broke and she started sobbing and couldn't stop.

* * *

Once Mary returned to her parents' apartment that afternoon, she sat down with both of them on their living room couch and had a talk with them.

"Mom, Dad, I have to tell you guys something, and this is difficult for me because what I have to say is something I know neither one of you are going to want to hear. I've given this a great deal of thought, and I've made up my mind that I'm not going through with the Whipple procedure. Not right now, anyway."

Alarmed, Walt looked into his daughter's eyes and asked, "What do you mean you're not going through with it?"

"Just what I said. I'm not going through with it right now. I need to take some time."

"Mary, I've been a physician for over forty years, and if there's one thing I know, it's this: you don't mess around with cancer. Especially not pancreatic cancer. I know how frightened you are, sweetheart. Anyone in their right mind would be scared to death. But running away from this problem by avoiding the procedure isn't going to solve anything. As difficult as it is, you've got to face this."

"Your father's right, Mary," Dottie chimed in. "You can't afford to run away from this. This is your life we're talking about."

"Mom, Dad, you don't understand. I'm not running away from anything. I am going to have the Whipple procedure done. Just not right away. Daddy, you're not talking about performing a tonsillectomy on me. You're not talking about cutting out my appendix. You're talking about removing the head of my pancreas, part of my small intestine, my gall bladder, and my bile duct. You're basically talking about going in and rewiring my entire digestive system, a very complicated procedure that some people don't even survive. And on top of that, I'm going to have to endure up to six months of chemotherapy and possibly radiation treatments. And when the time comes that I do go under the knife, I need to be in the right place mentally and emotionally so that I'll be strong enough to get through this very complex, dangerous, possibly life-threatening surgery. And I'm not there. Not yet. I need to take some time for myself. I need to take some time to enjoy you guys and Murray and the kids and all my friends and my work before I go under the knife and my whole life changes forever. Can you guys please at least try to understand that?"

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Dottie finally looked at her husband and said, "She's right, Walter. I don't like this any more than you do, but it isn't wise to try to force Mary into a surgical procedure that she doesn't feel she's ready to face psychologically. When Mary does have the procedure, she needs to be in the best possible place mentally and emotionally."

Walt took several long moments to really consider what his wife was saying, and although he certainly didn't like it, he knew she had a point. Finally, he looked at Mary and asked, "How long do you want to wait?"

"One month. I want to spend the next month just enjoying my everyday life and spending quality time with all the people I love. I want to have one more month living out my normal life as I know it before my whole world begins revolving around surgery and chemotherapy and radiation and fighting cancer. And there's one more thing."

"What's that?" asked Dottie.

"I don't want anyone else to know about this. Not Murray. Not Rhoda. Not Mr. Grant. Not the rest of our family. Nobody."

"Why not?" Walt questioned.

"Because the instant people find out that you've got cancer, they start treating you differently. You guys can barely even look at me without crying, especially you, Mom. There's no way I'd be able to enjoy my last month of freedom if all my friends knew what was going on and they all kept getting sad and feeling sorry for me all the time. When I said I wanted to _enjoy _this month before my surgery, I really meant it. I truly want to enjoy this time doing things with the people I love while I still can."

"The Whipple procedure is not a death sentence, Mary," Walt insisted. "I know that it is risky, but you _will _come through it and you _will _recover and move on with your life."

"Yes, but it can take a long time to fully recover from the Whipple procedure. And as soon as I've recovered from that, I'll have to have chemotherapy. It's going to take a very long time before I'll _really _be able to move on with my life. After I have the surgery and chemotherapy, it's going to be at least several months before I'll truly feel like myself again. That's why I really want – _and need _– to take this next month to just be myself and enjoy doing things with the people I love that I won't be able to do for a long time after the surgery. Okay?"

After a long pause, Walt reluctantly said, "Okay, sweetheart. I want you to know up front that speaking as your doctor, I don't like your decision and I don't agree with it. But speaking as your father, I understand."

"Thank you, Daddy," Mary said softly.

A tearful Dottie put her arms around Mary in that moment and told her, "Oh baby, we love you so much."

While tightly embracing her mother, Mary responded, "Oh Mom, Dad, I love you too. It's going to be okay. Everything will be alright. I know it," she insisted. Mary didn't feel as confident as she sounded, of course. She was still pretty terrified of what lied ahead. But after spending the past several days crying everything out in her mother's arms, she wanted to at least try to be strong for her parents now because she knew this was just as hard on them as it was on her.

"You know, uh…it's really something," said Walt in an emotional whisper. "It seems like only yesterday, you were this cute little girl in pigtails who was petrified of the dark. Now, just look at you. All grown up. So brave and strong."

"I don't know about that, Daddy. I'm still shaking on the inside," Mary admitted.

"Being courageous doesn't mean that you never feel afraid," Walt explained. "It means that no matter how scared you do feel on the inside, you push through it and you keep going anyway. That's what you're doing now, Mary. You're pushing through your fear, and you're preparing yourself on the inside to face one of the most frightening things imaginable. When I look at you now, I feel so proud. We raised us a strong girl, Dottie."

"We certainly did, Walter," Dottie agreed.

Once again, Dottie and Mary embraced, and this time, Walt joined in as well. As the two parents clung tightly to their only child, Walt gently told her, "We're going to get through this, baby girl. We're going to get through this."

Unable to say anything, Mary simply kept clinging as tightly to her mother and father as she could while they continued holding onto her for dear life.


	4. I'm In

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Lou Grant learns shocking information about the prevalence of child trafficking and child prostitution rings in the United States; Mary is disturbed by Murray's unexpected marriage proposal.

**Chapter 4: I'm In**

As soon as Lou Grant saw the face of his old army buddy, he smiled. Paul Greene, a slim black man who was six-feet-two, had been one of Lou's closest friends when they served in the army together during World War Two. Lou had gotten a call from Paul at the newsroom earlier that day, asking to meet with him as soon as he was done with work, and Lou naturally agreed. They got together at a nearby bar and had a couple of drinks, and then they went to Paul's hotel room to speak in private about what was, according to Paul, an urgent matter of business.

The instant they walked through the door, Lou said to his old buddy, "Okay, Paul. What's all this about? What is this urgent matter you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Lou, you know that ever since I left the army ten years ago, I've been working as an undercover agent for the FBI."

"Of course I know that."

"Well, I've recently learned some things that…Lou, it's all so unbelievable. If I were to stand here and explain it all to you, you'd never believe me. That's why I brought the film with me," he said as he walked towards the projector he'd set up in the room. "So I can show you. You've got to see this for yourself, Lou."

"Alright, Paul," Lou agreed, and then he sat down with Paul and began to watch what it was he had to show him.

There was nothing Paul could have possibly said that would have prepared even a war veteran like Lou Grant for what was on the films he watched that day. Not even Lou's experiences in World War Two could have prepared him for this. For the next several hours, he watched in absolute horror as a number of wealthy businessmen, politicians, and celebrities committed the most heinous atrocities to little children. The vilest forms of rape and abuse appeared on the screen in Paul Greene's hotel room that evening, and it was all Lou Grant could do to keep from vomiting.

Finally, after Paul turned off the projector at midnight, he looked at Lou and told him, "I'm terribly sorry I had to show that to you, Lou. There was just no other way. Had I tried to explain it to you, you probably wouldn't have believed me."

After a long pause, Lou said, "So basically…what you're telling me…what you're showing me with all of this…is that practically any wealthy person with power, any high-ranking politician, any celebrity, any C.E.O. in this country, is participating in the raping, abuse, and torture of little children. Is that what you're trying to show me, here?"

"In a nutshell, yes. Lou, forget everything you _thought _you knew about the good ol' U.S. of A. The cold hard fact of the matter is, there isn't any truly wealthy, powerful person in our government, our entertainment industry, or the business sector, that didn't step on at least one dead body to get where they were. There may be plenty of average Joes serving in low-level positions of our government, but everybody that's higher up in our government and wealthy and powerful is a person who takes part in great evil. I'm sure you've heard of people selling their souls to the devil for wealth, fame, and power. I used to think that all of that was religious mumbo-jumbo and silly superstition. But after seeing the things I've seen ever since I first started working in the FBI, I've come to realize that no truly wealthy, influential, famous, powerful person got to be where they are in our country today without getting involved in things that are downright demonic. Child pornography. Child trafficking. Child prostitution. Occult rituals. Murder. Rape. Abuse. You name it, they do it."

"It's unbelievable," Lou gasped.

"I know. But no matter how shocking it is or how difficult it is for someone with a normal mind to fathom, it is true."

"I'm assuming that you're coming to me with this because I'm a newsman and you want me to expose them."

Paul shook his head then and explained, "That would be terribly unwise to say the least. You have no idea what a miracle it was that there was somebody on a high enough level in the FBI to have access to this information, who was courageous enough and had enough of a conscience to share it with me. They put everything on the line to give me the films that you just watched, Lou, and I _do _mean _everything. _Even the lives of their own family. Trust me; if you released what was on these films to the American public, the next day, your daughters, your grandchildren, your ex-wife, and all your friends in that WJM newsroom would be stone cold dead. The powers that be in this country really are that evil and vicious, as you saw for yourself. As much as we would like to, we simply cannot take down the entire system and everybody involved in it. That's not why I'm here to see you."

"Then _why did _you come all the way to Minneapolis to show me such sickening footage?"

"Do you remember the footage I showed you right at the very end, where a well-known, wealthy couple in the business sector was raping their very own little girl? I won't mention their names, but you know who I'm talking about."

Aghast, Lou said, "That little girl was _their own daughter?_"

"Yeah, man. They were raping and molesting their own child. That's how sick and evil these people actually are. Well, I use the term 'people' very loosely. Those demons stopped being human a long time ago."

"You're right. They are demons," Lou agreed.

"Every adult in all the footage I showed you tonight is a demon, but I digress. The little girl at the end was only two years-old when her own parents committed those atrocities against her. Today, she's fourteen years-old, and she's a student at a private, all-girls boarding school in New York."

"Thank God she's living at a boarding school and not at home with those two demons."

"Amen to that. She's a remarkable young lady, Lou. My friend at the FBI gave her an I.Q. test last year. Her I.Q. is one-seventy-one. She took an I.Q. test in grade school, of course, but she gave a number of wrong answers on purpose so it would look like her I.Q. was at a more average level. In her wisdom, she knew it would be best to hide the truth about her intelligence from those demons who produced her. I won't call them her parents."

"They're not parents."

"They certainly aren't. She always refers to them as her DNA donors, which is an accurate description. However, I personally think she's being too kind. I think calling them demons is far more accurate."

"Agreed."

"Anyway, due to the fact that this girl is basically a female Albert Einstein and has great wealth and powerful connections, she's been able to start an underground resistance movement of sorts that her demonic DNA donors know nothing about. You already know what grave evil those two have done to their own child. I'm sure it won't surprise you to hear that most of their fortune _was not _earned through the family business; their 'business' is really just a cover so they'll look more respectable in the eyes of the public. The vast majority of their wealth, for a number of generations now, was made through things like child prostitution and child trafficking. There are a great number of terribly wealthy politicians, celebrities, and businessmen and women who basically own one or more children as sex slaves, as unfathomable as it is. There's even this underground city, somewhere in America, almost no one but the wealthy elites know its exact location, and it's basically a pedophile's paradise. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of children are trapped there. And this young lady, who goes by the alias Ariah, has been using her own inheritance to buy as many children as she can from pimps running child prostitution rings in this country because, given her own experiences, she knows exactly what those kids are going through. She's extraordinary, Lou. As I mentioned a few moments ago, she's a genius. Most of all, she's a computer genius and a financial genius. She's been hacking into her DNA donors' bank and withdrawing money from her own trust fund for years, making it look like it was her father who was doing it – and I use the term 'father' _very_ loosely – and in turn, she's been investing that money and she's made a substantial fortune of her own. She even has her own Swiss bank account."

"But she's only fourteen. How can she have a Swiss bank account?"

"The agent who gave me the films I showed you tonight has been helping her out for several years now. They've been in contact with one another for a long time now without Ariah's DNA donors or anybody else in the FBI finding out about it. He went to Switzerland and made the account under an alias, but it's Ariah's money."

"I see."

"And unbeknownst to her DNA donors or anyone, she frequently goes out in disguise and meets with all these sick pedophile pimps and buys children from them – again, with her own money – and then she sees to it that they're taken care of. Some children are returned to their parents. However, most of these children were taken from children's homes and foster care where they were already being abused, and when they're rescued by Ariah, understandably, the last thing in the world they want to do is to go back into that system. So, just as numerous people in the highest levels of our government have been paid off to turn a blind eye to the heinous crimes of Ariah's DNA donors and many others like them, Ariah, in turn, has a couple of judges in her own pocket. And whenever she buys back a child sex slave that came from an abusive foster home or children's home, or was abused by their own parents before they were kidnapped and brought into this evil mess, she goes to one of the judges she's paid off and he grants the child legal emancipation. Then she sets the child up in a boarding school somewhere – most of the time it's her school, which is the Eastland School for Girls in Peekskill, or its brother school, Bates Academy – and she pays for all of their expenses and sees to it that they're cared for. And she doesn't just stop caring for them once they turn eighteen. Ariah has rescued a number of kids who are several years older than she is, and there are a number of them who are now eighteen and nineteen years-old, who have graduated from Eastland or Bates, that she is now putting through college. Ariah takes care of these kids in every way she can until they're able to take care of themselves."

It was a very rare thing for Lou Grant to ever find himself thoroughly shocked by anything. Until today, this grandfather and World War Two vet was certain he had seen it all. But after seeing and hearing what Paul had today, he genuinely was _shocked _down to his core, and it took a couple of minutes for him to really process what his old friend was telling him.

At last, Lou looked at Paul and said, "Paul, this…this isn't right. What this young girl is doing…yes, it's incredible, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for her. But it's just plain _wrong _to put a fourteen-year-old child in this fight. Going out meeting with pimps and pedophiles and criminals. Hacking into her trust fund under her so-called 'father's' name. It's too dangerous. She's a child, Paul. _A child. _No matter how high her I.Q. is, she's too young to shoulder this kind of responsibility."

"I hear what you're saying, Lou. And I agree with you. No fourteen-year-old should ever have to carry burdens like these. But if Ariah and my friend at the F.B.I. don't work together to put a stop to all this, _who will? _I can promise you, Lou, nobody else at the F.B.I. or at any other government agency is going to do anything. All of the people who _can _do something have either been paid off or they've been bullied and threatened and intimidated into silence or they've been killed. Children aren't just being raped and abused in that underground city I showed you footage of tonight, Lou. _Children are dying there. _A number of children have _already _died there. Ariah is one of maybe a handful of people on this entire planet with the money, the power, the resources, the intelligence, the courage, _and _the will to try to bring all of this to an end.

"And the reason I came here is because I know what a passion you have for journalism. You're a newsman, Lou. It's not just what you do; it's who you are. You live for making sure that the public has the truth. Ariah has made it quite clear to me and to my colleague in the FBI that she's working on a plan to bring her demonic DNA donors' evil empire crashing down to the ground. As I was saying before, they own a number of child sex slaves in this underground city I told you about, and to this day, most of the money they make is from pedophiles paying them great amounts of money for access to those children, and from other forms of child prostitution and child pornography. And while Ariah hasn't ever been able to set all of her DNA donors' slaves free since making a move like that against them would tip them off, she does have plans to expose them in the press one day when she feels the time is right. And when that day comes, I want you to have a hand in this. I want you to be one of the first newsmen who begins to expose this evil to the American public, that is, when Ariah feels that the time is right and precautions have been taken to protect yourself and all your loved ones."

"I understand," Lou said solemnly. "About how long will it be before Ariah decides that it's time to start exposing these demons? How much time are we looking at?"

"Well I can tell you this much: it's not going to happen tomorrow or next month. We're looking at a couple of years at least. I just want you to be ready when the time does come."

Lou nodded, and then he told Paul, "I'm in."

* * *

The next five weeks flew by. After his meeting with Paul, Lou remained dazed for several days, and out of concern, Mary tried a number of times to get him to open up to her to no avail. It was very difficult for Lou to put what he had seen out of his mind and get on with his everyday life, but he managed to do it because, quite simply, he had no choice. Meanwhile, despite how terrified she was of what lied ahead for her, shockingly, Mary managed to keep her inner-struggles to herself, which was most unusual for her to say the least. Mary typically went running into Mr. Grant's office to talk to him about every tiny tidbit that ever happened in her life. Normally, the entire newsroom knew about every tiny tidbit that went on in Mary's life! Mary was simply the kind of person that had to express everything she was thinking and feeling to almost everybody. However, this was a whole other ballgame. As one would expect, particularly with a sensitive soul like Mary, she was so devastated and petrified when she first learned what her CAT scans revealed that she literally spent days crying and sobbing in her parents' arms. But then when she saw how her mother and father had started treating her so differently, she realized that if she blurted this whole thing out to everyone in the newsroom, to Murray and Mr. Grant in particular, the same thing would happen with them. So even though it was incredibly difficult for Mary and very much out of character for her, she managed to keep her diagnosis to herself so that she could truly enjoy the time she had with the people she loved the most before she entered a world of surgical procedures and difficult recoveries and illness and chemotherapy. But Mary knew she couldn't hide the truth from them forever.

Two weeks before she was scheduled to finally have her father perform the Whipple procedure, she spoke with WJM's new station manager, a middle-aged Latina lady named Bianca Hernandez, about the medical ordeal she was facing. Given the fact that both she and her husband had lost several of their own family members to cancer, she was extremely helpful and understanding. She agreed not to mention Mary's situation to anyone at the station, to allow Mary to be the one to tell them in her own time, and she assured Mary that she would give her all the (paid) time off that she needed while she recovered from the Whipple procedure and went through chemotherapy.

And during the three weeks that followed, her conversation with Mrs. Hernandez continued to give her peace of mind. But then at long last, just three days before Mary was scheduled for the Whipple procedure, Mary knew the moment of truth had arrived. Murray was throwing a little dinner party for Mary at his place to celebrate her fortieth birthday, and Rhoda, Mary's parents, Mr. Grant, and Rebecca were all there, as were all of Murray's children (with the exception of Bonnie.) Mary hated ruining everybody's evening, but she just couldn't keep it all in anymore. Plus, it only made sense to tell them everything now, given the fact that all her closest friends and loved ones were there.

As Mary ate dinner with everyone that evening, it became apparent that there was something going on behind the scenes that she just wasn't in the loop about. Murray, Mr. Grant, Rhoda, and even all of Murray's kids kept smiling at one another mysteriously. Walt and Dottie just looked at each other and then over at Mary and shrugged, and it became clear to Mary in that moment that they were out of the loop too.

Finally, the instant everybody was through with their meal, they all went into Murray's living room. He then got their attention, and in the following moments, he did something that Mary honestly never saw coming. He approached Mary's parents, and then almost like a nervous schoolboy, he shyly told them, "Dr. Richards, Mrs. Richards, I don't think it's any secret to either one of you how very much I love your daughter."

Dottie chuckled a bit and said, "Murray, please. How many times have Walt and I told you to call us by our first names?"

While Dottie had been saying that to Murray, Walt began to catch on to what Murray was about to say, and his eyes locked with Mary's, and he could see it then that she was starting to catch on as well. Under normal circumstances, he'd be overjoyed for his daughter, but of course, these were _not _normal circumstances.

Murray let out a nervous chuckle as well, and he said, "Sorry, Dottie. Uh…Dottie, Walt…I have a very important question that I need to ask you. Like I just said, it's not any secret that I love Mary with all I've got in me. And, I want to spend the rest of my life with her," he said while tenderly gazing into Mary's heartbroken brown eyes. "And tonight is a very special night. It's Mary's birthday for one thing, and for another, it was officially one year ago today that Mary and I started dating. And I cannot think of a better night than tonight, with Mary and me being here, surrounded by all the people we love, for me to ask you guys this very important question. Walt, Dottie, I'd like to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage."

Again, under normal circumstances, Walt and Dottie Richards would've been over the moon. But tonight, everyone could easily see for themselves the horrified looks on their faces, and they knew that something was very, very wrong. Before either one of them could say anything to Murray, Mary walked up to him and with tears in her eyes, she told him, "I'm sorry, Murray. I am so, so sorry. I want to say yes to you, Murray. I want to marry you more than anything in this world, but I can't. I can't say yes, and it breaks my heart that I can't say yes. I'm sorry, Murray. I'm so sorry."

Mary then raced out the door and drove off, practically at the speed of light.


	5. You're a Slaughter Now

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Murray works things out with Mary; as Mary battles cancer, Murray continues to be a source of support for her.

**Chapter 5: You're a Slaughter Now**

After Mary rushed out the door of Murray's house and drove away, obviously, Murray, the kids, and all their friends were stunned. And Walt and Dottie knew that they couldn't keep the truth from them any longer. Everyone kept asking what was going on with Mary, and as difficult as it was, Walt looked them all straight in the eye and told them the truth. He told them all about Mary's cancer, and then he explained the Whipple procedure to them. He then explained that after she recovered from the Whipple procedure, which could take two months, possibly even longer, she would have to endure up to six months of chemotherapy and possibly radiation treatments.

"I can't believe it," Murray gasped. "I just can't believe it."

With tears brimming her eyes, Rhoda shook her head and said, "I knew something was wrong with Mary. _I knew it. _But no matter how hard I tried to get her to talk about it, she just wouldn't open up to me like she usually does. But I knew that whatever the problem was, it was something serious. I knew it was bad. I just had no idea it was _this _bad."

"All these years, Mary's been my closest friend," said Lou as he too was fighting off tears. "No. She's more than a friend to me. With all due respect to you, Dr. Richards, I have to confess that in all these years that we've been working together in the newsroom, Mary really has been just like another daughter to me. There's nobody in that newsroom I have more respect for than her. This is tearing me apart."

"I just don't understand," said Rebecca. "Mary usually tells us everything about what's going on in her life. Why did she suddenly become so secretive? Why would she keep something like this to herself?"

"Speaking as a physician, I can say truthfully that there's no telling how a person will react to this kind of news. Personally, I've seen it all with my patients over the years. Every person reacts to serious illness a little bit differently," Walt explained.

"After she found out, Mary called in sick at work and spent several days with us. In that time, Mary just cried in my arms while I rocked her. And I cried with her, and so did Walt. All three of us just spent days on end, crying our eyes out," said Dottie.

"And then we made the mistake of treating Mary like she was made of porcelain," Walt added. "I think that contributed greatly to Mary's decision to keep everything to herself for a while and postpone her surgery."

"We couldn't help it. We were just so worried about her," Dottie told them. "We still are."

"Dad, what are you going to do?" questioned sixteen-year-old Ellen.

"Are you still going to try to convince Mary to marry you?" asked Le Chan.

Murray then locked his eyes with his thirteen-year-old son and said with determination, "I'm going to do more than try, son." Le Chan smiled, and then Murray got up from his seat and said, "Ellen, I'm going out. See to it that your brother and your sister are in bed by nine."

"Sure thing, Dad," said Ellen.

"Daddy, you're going to find Mary, aren't you?" asked nine-year-old Susie.

Murray responded by kissing his youngest child on the top of her head, and he told her, "I sure am, baby. I'm sorry to take off like this, everybody, but–"

"Don't apologize," Lou interrupted. "Just go find Mary and talk to her. _Now._"

"Amen to that," Rhoda agreed.

"Thanks, you guys. I will," Murray assured them, and then he left.

* * *

About half an hour later, Murray found Mary standing alone in the park, just staring up at the night sky. Over the past year that they'd been seeing each other, their relationship had grown deeper than ever, and while it wasn't always the case, it was true now that Murray knew Mary better than anyone, even better than her own parents. That's why he knew exactly where to find Mary and they didn't. Their relationship had begun in this park. They'd spent countless hours there, just walking and enjoying the scenery while they talked. They brought the children there all the time for picnics. It was their own special place.

"Mary, we have to talk," Murray said softly. Mary's back was still turned to him.

"I know we do, Murray," Mary sighed, and then she turned to face him, and the instant she looked into his eyes, she knew without a doubt that her parents had told him the truth after she ran out. "I, uh…I really don't know what to say to you right now. This whole thing is just so…"

"Shocking," Murray supplied.

"Yeah. Shocking. I mean, I was already heartbroken over my Uncle John getting diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and then, bam! I find out the exact same thing is happening to me."

"I know," Murray said gently. "I know. I know it's a lot to deal with all at once. But Mary, I would have helped you through it all during this past month if you only would have let me. That's what people do when they're in love with each other; when they're partners. They help each other through the tough times."

"Ah, Murr, I didn't keep this from you because I was trying to shut you out."

"Then _why did _you keep it from me, Mary? How could you not tell me that you'd been diagnosed with cancer?"

"I was always going to tell you, Murray. It's just that it's not a very easy thing to talk about. Mom and Dad were with me when I got my diagnosis, and ever since then, they've been treating me as if I were already half-dead. That's how people act when they find out you've got cancer. The minute people hear the c-word, you are first and foremost a cancer patient. Now, in other people's eyes, I'll be a cancer patient first and Mary second. That one word, that one little six-letter word, changes everything."

"Not to me, Mary. I promise you, to me, you will _never _be a cancer patient first and Mary second. Not in my eyes."

"Thank you, Murr," Mary said softly, and then Murray pulled her into his arms, gave her a long, fervent kiss, and clung to her for the longest time. As they embraced, tears filled their eyes, and Murray whispered in Mary's ear, "We're going to get through this, Mary. I promise you."

"I want to believe that, Murray. I really do. But you have no idea how terrible the odds are of a person surviving pancreatic cancer. Almost no one ever beats this type of cancer."

"I know that the odds are stacked against us. Your father explained everything to me. I know how bad it is, Mary," he said to her while holding her close and gazing into her eyes. "But you and I are going to pull together, and we're going to beat this thing. _We are going _to beat the odds. I promise you that with all I've got in me."

Mary gave him a sad smile and stroked his cheek, and as another tear escaped from one of her eyes, she told him, "Oh, Murr, I know what you're trying to do, and I love you for it."

"I'm not going to let you push me away, Mary. Not now. Not in a time like this."

Mary shook her head and said, "You know that if all of this wasn't happening in my life, I would have said yes to your marriage proposal. I really would have."

"Mary, haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part'? That's the vow I want to make to you. As a matter of fact, I feel like I have made that vow to you in my heart already. Mary, we may not be married yet, but surely you know me well enough by now to know that I'm in this thing for life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"But there's another side to all of this. If it were just you involved and you wanted to make a commitment like this to a woman with pancreatic cancer, that would be one thing. But Murray, you've got four children to think about. They've already lost one mother. Don't you see how unfair it would be to them?"

"Mary, _they wanted _me to come here tonight. _They wanted _me to find you and talk to you just as much as I did. You're already a part of our family and a very big part of _all _our lives. My kids – _our _kids – are just as crazy about you as I am. And if I were to let you go now, they'd never speak to me again. You're a part of us, Mary. And we're a part of you. We're a family. And families don't abandon one family member when she gets sick. It doesn't work that way," said Murray right after their embrace ended. He then pulled out a black velvet box from his pocket and said, "You've got to face, it Mary." In the following moment, he opened the box, revealing a breathtaking square sapphire engagement ring with a tiny diamond on each side on a white gold band. Then Murray said, "You're stuck with us. You're a Slaughter now."

This time, it was tears of joy that were falling from Mary's eyes as she just stood there, completely speechless, as Murray slid the engagement ring on her finger.

* * *

It was a little past midnight before Mary got back home. Murray drove her, of course, and after they talked a bit, he kissed her goodnight and left because he could clearly see how tired she was. Mary didn't get a chance to go to bed for a while, though, because almost immediately after Murray was gone, Rhoda was out in the hall, ringing her doorbell.

"Coming," Mary sighed, and then she walked up to the door and answered it. As soon as she opened the door, without a word, Rhoda put her arms around Mary and gave her the longest, tightest hug.

Mary invited her inside, and as soon as Rhoda entered and Mary closed the door behind her, Rhoda gave her a long hug and then she looked into her eyes and asked, "How you doin', kid?"

"You know, Rhoda, as crazy as it might sound, I'm okay. I really am. I certainly wasn't okay after I first found out my diagnosis, but now, I'm actually in a much better place mentally and emotionally than I was five weeks ago."

"That's good, Mary. That's really good to hear. You know, I knew something was wrong all this time. You just haven't been yourself."

Mary and Rhoda sat down on the sofa together then, and Mary said, "I won't lie to you, Rhoda. These past few weeks have been pretty hard. But it's also been incredibly eye-opening to me. Before this happened to me, I just…took all the wonderful people and all the wonderful things in my life for granted. Now, I see that each moment I have with the people I love is such a blessing, and whatever time I have left, I'm not going to waste it wallowing in self-pity. I've made up my mind that from here on out, I'm going to spend every moment I have doing as much good as I possibly can. And I'm going to enjoy every second I have with Murray and the kids and my parents and you and Mr. Grant and all the people I love."

Rhoda took Mary's hand in that moment, gave it an affectionate squeeze, and told her, "Good for you, kid. I gotta say, I really respect you for being so strong. If it were me, I'd still be wallowing in self-pity."

Mary chuckled a bit at Rhoda's humor, and then she said, "Oh, come on, Rhoda."

"No, Mary. It's true. You know, uh, after you left Murray's house tonight, your parents had a long talk with all of us. Your father explained everything about what you're facing. I don't know how you're able to be so strong and so positive right now. It's really amazing. _You're _really amazing."

"Well, I'm not _that _amazing. As a matter of fact, truth be told, I can't take the credit. I don't mean to sound like some kind of a religious zealot, but the truth is, it's Jesus who's kept me afloat through all of this. You know, before I started going to church with Murray and the kids every Sunday, I never really took matters of faith all that seriously. God just seemed so distant to me. But ever since I found out that my uncle and I had cancer, I realized I couldn't get through this without Him. After my diagnosis, I really needed to know with absolute certainty where I was going to spend eternity. And when I chose to put my faith in Christ, I've got to tell you, Rhoda, my whole outlook changed. I don't know what lies ahead. I don't know what God has in store for Uncle John and me. But I know this: whether he and I get to be one of a tiny percentage of people who beats pancreatic cancer, or whether the Lord is going to be calling us home soon, I'm ready. I can do this. Thanks to Jesus, I can do this. I know now that one way or another, my uncle and I are going to be okay because he knows where he's going in the end, and so do I."

"Do you have Jesus's phone number?" Rhoda joked, and Mary laughed.

"Oh Rhoda, you don't need a phone number. Just call on Him at any time. Jesus is always listening, and He's _always _there for you."

Rhoda gave Mary a nod, and then got lost in thought for several long moments. Rhoda was Jewish but she'd never taken her own religion all that seriously. And all through her life, she'd clearly never had the kind of certainty that Mary now had about her own eternal destiny. She'd always believed that if her good deeds outweighed her bad ones, she'd end up in heaven when she died, but she never had the _absolute certainty _and hope that Mary had now. She was truly amazed at how hopeful Mary was now, despite her circumstances. And deep down, Rhoda knew that she wanted what Mary had. But she wasn't quite ready to talk about it all just yet, and the last thing she wanted was to change the focus onto herself given everything that Mary was going through now, so she quickly changed the subject.

"Did you and Murray get everything all straightened out?" asked Rhoda.

Mary smiled and told her, "We sure did. I didn't want to say yes to Murray's marriage proposal at first. Given my diagnosis, I just felt it would be too unfair to him and the kids. I mean, they've already lost one wife and mother. I just didn't think it would be right. But Murray's so stubborn."

"Good for him," Rhoda said happily. "Let me tell ya somethin', kid. I've seen the two of you together over the past year, and what you guys have with one another is true love. And true love is incredibly rare. You and Murray fit together perfectly. You belong together. And you can't allow illness or anything else get in the way of true love between a man and a woman. You cannot say no to it. It's too rare a gift. When you find true love, like what you've found with Murray, you cherish it and you cling to it with all you've got."

"Thank you, Rhoda. I will cherish what I have with Murray and I will cling to it with all my strength. I can promise you that."

"Good. Now that that's settled, I want to see the ring."

Mary smiled again and showed Rhoda her engagement ring, and Rhoda gasped. "Mar, it's incredible," she said.

"I think so too. Murray's been saving up for months to buy me this ring. He chose a ring with a sapphire and diamonds because sapphires and diamonds are both considered birthstones for the month of April and he thought it would make the perfect birthday gift, which it is."

"That's so sweet. I won't lie; I'm pretty jealous," Rhoda quipped, and they laughed. "But I'm happy for ya, kid. No one deserves this more than you do."

"Thanks."

"Hey Mary, can I ask you a really personal question?"

"Of course you can. We've been best friends for ages and there are no secrets between us. You know that."

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, what I wanted to ask you is, now that you guys are officially engaged, are you two finally going to start…you know?"

"Well you know that we talked about it when we first started dating last year and Murray said that he didn't want to be a hypocrite. He knew how hypocritical it would be of him to go to church every Sunday and take his kids to church every Sunday and have them seeing him playing the part of the Christian, only for him to be going against what was taught in church by having premarital sex with me the whole time. Naturally, I respected Murray for wanting to set such a good example for his children and I agreed with him that he should lead his children by example and not be a hypocrite. Then three months ago, Murray stopped just playing the part and he became the real thing. He put his faith in Christ. And now that I'm born again too, I really do want to wait until my wedding night."

"And speaking of your wedding, when is that going to be?"

"Murray and I talked about it tonight, and we agreed that we would wait a while. First, I have to have the Whipple procedure done, as you know, and it'll take me around two months to fully recover from that. Then, I'll have to have up to six months of chemotherapy and possibly radiation treatments as well. We'll be getting married sometime after I'm finished with all of that and I've fully recovered from everything."

"Right. Oh Mary, I know I already said this a moment ago, but I'm happy for you. I really am. I just wish that there was something I could do about all this other stuff you're going through right now."

"Rhoda, the only thing I need you to do is exactly what you're doing right now. Just be here. You don't need to do anything else. And you don't have to worry. I know it in the depths of my spirit that everything is going to be okay. Somehow, all of this is going to work out for good. I know that."

Tears filled Rhoda's eyes in that instant as she put her arms around Mary and gave her a long, ferocious hug. "I love you, kid," she told Mary through her tears while clinging to her.

"Oh Rhoda, I love you, too," Mary whispered. It was rather odd that Mary, who was typically so sensitive and overemotional, was now being the strong one instead of Rhoda, who was usually tough. But then again, Mary knew that the strength she had inside her now wasn't coming from her, but from the Holy Spirit, and in the midst of all the fear and turmoil she was going through, she couldn't have been more grateful that He was with her now.

* * *

The next eight months were terribly difficult for Mary and for all her loved ones. Recovering from the Whipple procedure was a long, taxing process, and the operation and the difficult recovery really took a lot out of her. Then it became even more painful for Mary when, right after she started chemotherapy, she learned that her Uncle John had passed away. After her Uncle John's death, the chemotherapy and the radiation she had to endure were downright brutal. However, there was some good news in the midst of it all. When Dr. Richards operated, he found that amazingly enough, Mary's cancer had only progressed to stage two, and was obviously much easier to treat than it would have been at stage three or four. Walt couldn't stress it enough that it was a pure, utter miracle that they caught Mary's cancer so early; that the vast majority of the time, pancreatic cancer wasn't even discovered until it was too late.

Mary completed her chemotherapy and radiation treatments that December, and by February, she was pretty much back to her chipper self. The Whipple procedure and the chemotherapy did take a toll on Mary's body and she did tire a lot more easily nowadays, but overall, she stayed strong and remained in good spirits. The cancer support group she joined was an immense help, as were all her friends and family, and Mary was beyond grateful to all of them.

In March, the big day finally arrived. On Saturday, the twenty-ninth of March, the pews were packed with people from WJM and with all of Mary's and Murray's loved ones. Naturally, Rhoda was Mary's maid of honor (to Phyllis's dismay) and Lou was Murray's best man. Susie made an adorable flower girl, and Walt had tears in his eyes well before it was time for him to escort his daughter down the aisle.

About five minutes before a limousine came to take Mary to the church, she was standing in front of her full-length mirror in her bedroom, looking at herself in her beautiful lace wedding gown and veil, when there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" asked Mary. (Lou, Rhoda, Ted, Georgette, Rebecca, and Mary's parents were all there at her apartment with her and they were all riding to the church together.)

"It's Lou," he answered.

"Come in."

"Oh Mary," Lou gasped the instant he saw her, and Mary gave him a beaming smile. "Mary, you look…amazing."

"Thank you, Lou," Mary said kindly. Just before her surgery, Lou basically ordered Mary to stop calling him Mr. Grant.

"You know, Mary, I…I may not be your father biologically, but today, I sure feel like a proud father. I don't think I've ever seen you looking more beautiful than you do right now."

"Thank you," Mary whispered.

In the next moment, Lou walked up to Mary, gave her a big hug, and lovingly kissed her cheek. Such displays of tenderness from Lou were somewhat rare before Mary's illness, but seeing Mary struggle in her fight against cancer over the past year had really changed him. He was still the same lovable old grump he'd always been, of course, but Mary's illness really got to him on a number of levels. It made him realize just how much he actually had taken Mary for granted over the years. He'd always had a real soft spot in his heart for Mary, but since her diagnosis, his love for his surrogate daughter had grown deeper than ever.

"I know that you're a grown woman and you don't need a surrogate father nagging at you today and treating you like you're a little child, but humor me. Let me do it anyway."

"Of course," Mary said with a chuckle.

"I know that this is a very big day for you, Mary. But still, no matter how big of a day it is, you mustn't overdo it and tire yourself out."

Mary knowingly smiled and told him, "I won't overdo it, Lou. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"I know you will be. There isn't any man on this earth I would trust more with a treasure like you than Murray. I know how happy you'll be."

With her brown eyes sparkling, she said, "I can't wait for us to start our lives together. I feel almost like a princess today. This is all a dream come true."

"No one deserves this more than you and Murray do. Speaking as your second father, I couldn't be happier for you."

"Thank you."

In the next moment, there was another knock at the door, and Georgette opened it and stuck her head in. "Sorry to interrupt, Mary, but the chauffeur is here to take us all to the church," she informed them. She and Ted had flown in from New York to be there for the wedding, and it really meant a lot to Mary and Murray to have them there.

"Well, I guess it's time to go," said Mary.

"I guess it is. Are you ready to officially become Mrs. Slaughter?" asked Lou.

"Yes. Just give me a minute alone, would you? You and Georgette and everybody else can go on out to the limo. I'll be there in a sec."

"Sure thing," said Lou, and then he kissed Mary's cheek once again before walking out of the bedroom with Georgette.

When Mary was alone, she took a moment to reflect back on the past year. So many things had happened and it had all been such a roller coaster ride. She'd lost her uncle, gone under the knife, had endless doctor's appointments, spent countless hours kneeling in front of a toilet vomiting while Murray held her. It had been medical and emotional hell. Yet through it all, she'd come to love and appreciate her family and friends more deeply than she ever thought possible, and they her, and her bond with the Lord only intensified. And the inexplicable hope she had through her bitter trial even helped Rhoda and Lou come to faith in Christ, which was a blessing they all treasured. It had been agonizing and to this day, it still didn't make complete sense, but Mary knew without a doubt that she wouldn't trade the depth and closeness she now had with all her loved ones for anything.


	6. Mrs Garrett Adopts Ariah

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **An FBI agent informs Mrs. Garrett about the epidemic of child trafficking and child prostitution that is taking place in America, and about the plight of an Eastland student named "Ariah" who is fighting against it; Mrs. Garrett and Ariah begin writing letters to each other.

**Chapter 6: Mrs. Garrett Adopts Ariah**

When housemother Edna Garrett first accepted her position at the Eastland School for Girls over six months ago, she truly believed that it was just an ordinary job at an ordinary school. Granted, it hardly took her any time at all to fall in love with Eastland, and most importantly, with the girls who attended school there, but still, until today, she honestly believed that Eastland was an ordinary school, just like any other school in America. But then, a stranger came to see her – a stranger with an FBI badge – and what he had to tell her shook her to her core.

On Saturday, the twenty-ninth of March, while other people in other parts of the world were taking strolls through the park, watching Saturday morning cartoons, spending time with their children, and getting married, Edna Garrett was being shattered with the brutal truth about what really goes on behind the scenes in America's wealthiest, most powerful families. She was learning that not only did slavery _not _die out in America after the civil war ended; it was alive and kicking right under everybody's noses today, and it was the youngest, most innocent and vulnerable in society that were suffering the most heinous forms of it. She was learning about a wealthy fifteen-year-old heiress named Ariah who was buying children back from pimps and giving them their lives back.

After seeing the things this man had shown her earlier today, Edna was still trembling. Had she not seen the footage of what those monsters do to little children behind closed doors, she never would have believed it. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that so many wealthy, influential people in the world were actually not only participating in various forms of pedophilia but were even making their money off of it. Most of all, she couldn't wrap her mind around Ariah. A fifteen-year-old Eastland student who had the I.Q. of Albert Einstein and had been using her intelligence all her life to fight back against an evil, satanic system that enslaved children. A lifelong survivor of child abuse, herself. A young girl who had never known the love of a real parent.

When the FBI agent had informed Edna of Ariah's deep need for a mother and let her know that Ariah had chosen her of all people, Edna was both honored and humbled. Edna would be mothering Ariah through letters that she sent to a third party, someone who knew Ariah personally, and that person would pass Edna's letters on to Ariah, and Ariah would respond through the same method. It took many hours for Edna to calm herself down enough to be able to sit down in her bedroom and focus on the letter she had to write. Finally, at eight-thirty that evening, she picked up a pen and began to write.

_March 29, 1980_

_My Dear Ariah,_

_I've gone over and over it in my mind a hundred times today, trying to figure out what to say to you, how to start out this letter with a proper introduction. But the truth is, I'm simply at a loss for words. I don't know what to say. When your friend from the FBI came to Eastland today and we talked for the first time, I was absolutely horrified by what I learned. _

_I'm also deeply humbled by you. I can't even begin to tell you how much I admire you. Had I grown up without true parents, with mere DNA donors who only wanted to abuse me and use me for their own twisted pleasure, I honestly don't believe I'd be able to be as strong as you are. The work you're doing to help fight back against child prostitution and child trafficking is a miracle from God, and you yourself are one of His many miracles. When our friend from the FBI informed me of the obvious, that you need a parent in your life, and that of all people, you'd chosen me, I was so very honored. It is a GREAT honor to be your mother. I wish with all my heart that I could look into your face, look into your eyes, and talk to you in person, but given the circumstances, I understand why you would want to keep your true identity a secret. I understand that given your DNA donors' wealth and position, there is every possibility that you are constantly being watched, and I understand how vital it is that none of your enemies ever find out about the work you're doing in secret. I also know how important it is for you to protect the identities of the students you've rescued, and how important it is for you to protect yourself as well. I'm aware that most of the time in your day-to-day life at Eastland, you're an actress playing a role on a theatre stage. I know that you can almost never really be yourself. I can't imagine how hard that must be. I can't imagine living through the things you have. I respect you more than I'll ever be able to express with words. It is a great honor to get to have you for a daughter. I want to do everything within my power to help ease your burdens as much as I possibly can. Anytime that you ever need me, please, PLEASE write to me. I'm always here, and I'm always ready to listen. I'm so looking forward to getting to know you better, to being a mother to you. I can't wait to hear back from you._

_With all my love,_

_Mom_

* * *

_April 3, 1980_

_Dear Mrs. Garrett,_

_I appreciate your letter. I wasn't sure how you'd react to all of this when I asked our friend at the FBI to come and see you and tell you the truth about all the child trafficking and child prostitution that my wicked DNA donors are involved in. This world is filled with people who are blind and comatose; who are just going about their business without the slightest clue about the evil that goes on under their noses every single day. Many people don't like to have their eyes opened and be awakened from their comas. Waking up to the truth of just how evil, how satanic, the world really is, can be a painful process, and a lot of people lack the courage to really face it, so they stubbornly keep their eyes closed. (I know this for a fact because I speak from personal experience.) I knew it would be painful for you to learn the truth about what's happening to children all over the world every single day, but after watching you and getting to know you over the past six and a half months that you've been at Eastland, I knew you would have the courage to allow our FBI friend to open your eyes. I had a lot of faith in you, and I wasn't disappointed._

_When you say that I'm an actress playing a role on a theatre stage and that I can almost never really be myself, you have no idea just how accurate that is. You know the character I play on that theatre stage, Mrs. Garrett. You see her and talk to her every day. The two of you are not strangers. But the person I really am underneath that, the person I call Ariah who is writing to you right now, is very, very different from the phony character you see in the halls of Eastland every day. You know the character I play fairly well now, but you don't know ME. You don't know the REAL me. Not yet._

_Speaking of the real me, I'm about to do something that is very out of character for the real me, Ariah. Ironically, this would fit the character I play perfectly. My character, my façade, is very extroverted and talkative and she is NOT afraid to spill her guts to the whole world. I, on the other hand, am extremely private. It is terribly rare for me to ever show anyone the parts of myself that I'm about to reveal to you. Ordinarily, I would NEVER do something like this. However, I think it's necessary for me to do it now because we need to start this relationship laying all our cards out on the table, both of us knowing exactly where we stand, before we let this go any farther._

_One of my very first memories is the memory of being sexually assaulted by my DNA donors. While it is true that most acts of rape are committed by men, don't ever buy into the lie that there aren't any female rapists in the world, because I can tell you from personal experience that there are. While I have enormous respect for all the REAL mothers in this world who truly love and care for their children and put their children before themselves, I sometimes think that people in general like to put mothers on a pedestal and worship them far too often. Far too many people blindly believe that all mothers are perfect, saintly angels who are constantly beyond reproach, and again, I know from personal experience that that is a load of bull. I know from personal experience that there are plenty of so-called "mothers" out there who are EVERY BIT as evil and abusive to their children as many male domestic abusers can be. _

_Anyway, as I was saying, one of my very first memories was that of being raped by BOTH of my DNA donors. It wasn't just my sperm donor doing the raping and sexual assault. My egg donor was just as much a part of it as he was. To all NORMAL people out there who have true EMPATHY for their fellow human beings and for their own children most of all, the kind of lifestyle my DNA donors have engaged in is unthinkable. It's unbelievable. They can't imagine it. The reason most people can't fathom it is because people blindly expect everyone else out there to be normal like they are; to have a conscience and empathy. They never think that it's possible for people without true empathy to exist. However, the cold, hard fact is, for so many people like my DNA donors who LITERALLY sold their souls to the devil for their wealth, power, and influence, doing things like raping, torturing, and even murdering little children is actually NORMAL. As unthinkable as it is, it's just who they are. It's their way of life. As hard as it is to believe, this kind of thing has been going on behind closed doors for centuries. My whole life has been filled with things that are too grotesque to talk about. I've been sexually abused since I was a toddler. I've literally grown up watching my DNA donors rape and torture other children before my eyes. I've seen my DNA donors murder people. I've seen them murder children._

_All my life, I've always known that in my DNA donors' eyes, I was nothing more than an object that existed solely for their sick gratification. Just as Southern white plantation owners saw their black slaves as objects and not people, I was always an object to my DNA donors and not a person. Certainly not a person who had as much value as they did. They were the high and mighty parents and I was the unimportant child. "Honor thy father and mother," they always told me. I love Jesus, but that one commandment will always make me sick at my stomach. My very first memories were of me being in what other survivors and I have always called Hell City, the underground city you were told about. I was abused in terrible ways there, and the reason for that abuse was so they could keep me under control, like a little toy car powered by remote control. Like an object. They wanted, above all else, to strip me of my humanity, so that I would forget that I was a person and not an object that they owned._

_When I wasn't in Hell City enduring abuse and watching other children being abused and murdered, I was living the life most people THINK they envy. I was living with my DNA donors in one of many mansions they own. I was surrounded by nannies, maids, and other servants, being waited on hand and foot like a princess. I was being drowned in expensive clothes and jewelry and toys; I had every single material possession any little girl could possibly want. Naturally, my DNA donors played the roles of The Doting Mother and Father to perfection, and I was expected to play my role of The Happy Pampered Princess. I learned early on in my life that if I didn't play that role to perfection, my life would be in danger, and so would the lives of other children trapped in Hell City. However, speaking of Hell City, abuse didn't just happen to me there. There were times when I was abused at home as well. It happened regularly enough that the majority of the maids and nannies who worked for my DNA donors knew what was going on; they just turned a blind eye to it. _

_There was one person I thought was going to be different, though. Her name was Sue. She was a (seemingly) kind older lady in her sixties. She was one of my nannies, and for a time, she was just like a real mother to me. I even called her "Mama" in private. But then the next time my DNA donors decided to abuse me, they actually got my so-called "Mama" in on the act! She actually beat and molested me WITH THEM. It wasn't until years later that I realized why my DNA donors got her in on the act. It was all planned. They WANTED to give me hope just so they could take it away from me later. This happened to me more than once. It happened again with one of the younger maids, and then a third time with another nanny. It was then that I learned that there is nothing more cruel in life than purposely giving someone false hope only to snatch it away from her later._

_My point about all of this is the basic fact that I don't need any more disappointments or false hope in my life. I don't need lies or games. DO NOT call yourself my "Mom" if you're not willing to have just as much love in your heart for me as you do for Raymond and Alex. I don't need to be second place in your heart. If you're going to consider me your child, then REALLY consider me your child. DO NOT tell me that you consider me your adopted daughter, one of your own children, if in your heart of hearts, I'm not going to mean as much to you as Raymond and Alex do. If you're not in this relationship one hundred percent, tell me, and tell me NOW before this goes any farther so I won't be setting myself up for another fall. I think we can both agree that I deserve the whole truth. Based on what I've seen of you since last September, I have come to really like you, and you have earned my respect. However, it takes a much longer time for someone to earn my trust for obvious reasons._

_Yours truly,_

_Ariah_

* * *

_April 8, 1980_

_Dearest Ariah,_

_I cried so hard when I read your letter. I can't imagine the kind of hell you've endured throughout your young life at the hands of the two people who were supposed to love you the most. I have to confess that had our friend at the FBI not shown me the video footage of so many wealthy, famous, powerful businessmen and women and politicians and celebrities committing such atrocities to little children in this place you call Hell City, I never would have believed it. However, as difficult as it is to fathom, I know that it's true, and I know that the atrocities that you tell me you have endured behind closed doors truly happened, and it absolutely tears me apart inside. I truly wish with all my heart that I could go back in time and trade places with you and take all of the abuse for you. _

_I want you to know that I would NEVER set you up, lead you on, or play games with you. When I told you in my last letter that I was honored to be asked to be your mother, I meant it with all my heart. We may not have known each other very long, but I want you to know that YOU ARE just as important to me as Raymond and Alex are, and I do love you every bit as much as I love them. I was serious when I said I was your mom. I am your mom now, and I will be forever, and I will always consider that an enormous honor. _

_With all my love,_

_Mom_

* * *

_June 28, 1980_

_Dear Mom,_

_Before I say anything else, I just want to let you know that these past several weeks we've been writing to one another has been the happiest time of my life. Whenever I'm with my egg donor, I have to address her as "Mother" when I talk to her, but she ISN'T a mother. She has NEVER been a mother a single day of my life. There's a lot more to being a mother besides donating an egg at the moment of conception and giving birth, as you already know. With the obvious exception of sterile and infertile women, ANY woman can donate the necessary DNA to create a baby and carry that baby to term and give birth to it. That still doesn't make her a true mother. A true mother is a woman who is enough of an adult to ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY for her own life and for the life of her child; who is THERE for her child, SETS AN EXAMPLE for her child, and genuinely has more love in her heart for her child than she has for herself, even to the extent that she would give her life for her child if necessary. My egg donor IS NOT a true mother. She's an absolutely SICKENING imposter, posing as a mother. I'm forced by circumstance to address her by the title, but it's illegitimate, like a so-called "doctor" who got his degree out of a Cracker Jack box. It makes me sick when I have to lie and address her as "Mother" when she isn't a mother at all. Conversely, that's precisely why it makes me so happy to call you "Mom" in the letters I write to you because with you, it's not a lie. It's not a fake, sickening act, and you are NOT an imposter. It feels SO GOOD to have somebody in my life to call "Mom" and it be for REAL!_

_Now, I'll get down to business. You asked me in your last letter if I would be willing to elaborate a little more about my life story and how I ended up doing the work I do to help set children free from child trafficking. As I told you in one of my previous letters, it is rare for me to open up to anyone about things that are really personal. However, since you are my mom now, I'll oblige._

_My DNA donors' sexual and physical abuse of me began at age two. They typically took me to Hell City to abuse me there, although abuse did sometimes occur at home. I think there are three reasons why they chose to abuse me the way they did. The first reason is pretty obvious. They did what they did because they're pedophiles. The second reason for all the abuse is because they wanted to groom me to continue the family business, so to speak. They wanted to raise me to continue making money from things like child trafficking and child prostitution when I was grown. They wanted me to grow up to become a disgusting pedophile like they are and in their sick minds, they wanted to continue the cycle of abuse with me. The third reason is, they wanted to make me continually terrified of them – too terrified to try to reach out for help or do anything to act against them. In other words, they abused me because they wanted to keep me under their control so I wouldn't be a threat to them. Ironically, the more they tried to use abuse to keep me under their control, the more it backfired. It only made me hate them more and more, and the more I came to hate them, the more determined I became to find a way to outsmart them and do them in. Whenever I was raped by one or both of my DNA donors, it was always in their own designated living quarters in Hell City, which consisted of a living area, a kitchen, one bedroom, and one bathroom. The raping would always take place in their bedroom. Their Hell City bedroom is spacious and luxurious. It has a king-sized bed with perfumed satin sheets. Off to the side, there's a chess table. When I was little and one of my DNA donors would take me there to abuse me, I would have to sit down at the chess table when the abuse was over and try and beat him or her at a chess game. The point of all this was that they were trying to reinforce the idea that they were smarter than I was and that no matter how hard I tried, I had no hope of ever beating them or outwitting them. It was pretty soul-crushing for me when, after enduring rape, I would hear one of my DNA donors laughing at me and yelling, "Checkmate!" It all made me feel so hopeless, like I would always be trapped and helpless like that every day for the rest of my life. _

_However, when I became a little older, I started to realize that I had far more intelligence than everyone else around me, including my DNA donors. When I was seven, I started really studying the game of chess in depth and I soon figured out how to beat them. When I started becoming an expert at the game, I made the mistake of challenging my sperm donor to a game while we were in our mansion. I wanted, more than anything, to make him feel like a fool. I wanted to be the one to win for once in my life. Even at age seven, I understood how it would hurt his pride and ego to lose to a child. I outsmarted him in the game, and I won. As I said, though, it was a big mistake. I paid for challenging him like that, and I paid dearly. I was raped by both of my DNA donors that day, and then I was locked in a dark closet and left there without food, water, or access to the bathroom for the next four days. Obviously, it's dangerous enough for an ADULT to go four days without water. For a seven-year-old, it's deadly, and it was a miracle that I didn't die from dehydration. It was at that point in my life that I realized that all the knowledge and intelligence in the world is worthless if it isn't backed up by wisdom. I realized that even though I was becoming smart enough to outwit my DNA donors, I had to learn to be extremely careful in how I went about it. I realized that my whole life was a game of chess, and if I made one wrong move, it could kill me. Literally. _

_As soon as I came home from the hospital after that terrible incident, I started spending as much time as I could in the family library in the hopes that I would somehow gain both the knowledge and the wisdom I needed to put an end to my DNA donors' reign of terror. I studied everything I could get my hands on, especially our old chauffeur's Bible. There is no Person my DNA donors hate with more vitriol than Jesus Christ. Behind closed doors, when they're not slapping on a happy face for the public, they're constantly taking the name of our Lord Jesus in vain. They make a point of ripping out Bible pages and using them as personal napkins at the dinner table. There are some things they do with pages of the Bible that are too grotesque to discuss. All of this made me curious. I wanted to know who Jesus Christ was and why they hated Him so much. We had a chauffeur at the time named Adam. He'd been with our family for decades and even though he was in his seventies during my childhood, he still had good reflexes and he was still a good driver. He was very kind to me and he was almost like a surrogate grandfather in a way. He liked to spend a lot of time with me in the family library, and he always let me borrow his Bible whenever I asked for it. It was mostly thanks to him that I came to faith in Christ, and I think it was also thanks to him that I was able to become wise at an early age. While to this day, I cannot bring myself to forgive Adam for not even TRYING to do anything to rescue me from that evil situation, at the same time, I will always be grateful for the contribution he did make in my life. He helped teach me how to think things through. He gave me the benefit of all his years of life experience. The Bible talks about being born again, and immature believers are described as babes in Christ. I was a babe in Christ for a while but spiritually, I matured very quickly. I also matured very quickly mentally and emotionally. I had no choice. I HAD to grow up as fast as possible in order to survive, and the Lord knew that, and I believe He aided that process. _

_I'll admit it that at first, I was obsessed with the idea of taking my DNA donors down because I hated them with all my being and I wanted to see them suffer the way they'd made me suffer. I LIVED for the day that I could publicly humiliate them and tear them down. I won't lie. Part of me still feels that way. However, slowly but surely, I am learning to trust the Lord with this; I am learning to trust that when the time comes for my DNA donors to be judged, HE WILL care enough about me to make them face consequences for all the hell they've put me through. _

_Sadly, when it comes to the issues of forgiveness and reconciliation, the vast majority of professing Christians are just plain idiots. What's even sadder is the fact that they're WILLFUL idiots when it comes to these issues; THEY CHOOSE to be idiots about these things. I know because whenever my DNA donors are playing their roles as Upstanding Members of Society, they take me to church on Sundays where I'm told to "honor my mother and father" no matter what. To them, "honoring" one's mother and father means to reward their evil behavior and never allow them to face any consequences for their actions. In so many "Christian" circles, ESPECIALLY if a professing Christian parent has wronged a child, the pressure on that child to "forgive and forget" is immense, REGARDLESS if there's any true repentance on the parent's part or not. A person can decide to forgive the person who wronged her by choosing not to take revenge on that person herself and trusting the Lord to deal with the issue of vengeance in His time. However, there CANNOT EVER be reconciliation if the offender NEVER REPENTS AND NEVER DOES ANYTHING TO REPAIR THE DAMAGE THAT WAS DONE. In the name of "forgiveness," countless abuse victims in professing Christian churches are manipulated into reconciling with unrepentant abusers and protecting them from the consequences of their own actions. Based on my own personal experiences, I think that there are a lot of professing Christians out there who WILLFULLY CHOOSE to confuse the issues of forgiveness and reconciliation, who WILLFULLY CHOOSE to try to manipulate abuse victims into reconciling with their abusers, because they're selfish and it's their way of trying to sweep abuse under the rug instead of dealing with it. They ESPECIALLY act like this with child abuse victims because of their prejudice against young people. They believe in their hearts that children do not have as much intrinsic value as parents do, so whenever a parent sins against a child and refuses to repent, there are never any consequences for the parent, and all the pressure is put on the child to reward the parent's evil behavior with reconciliation, and this is done because in their eyes, the child's age simply isn't a high enough number for her to have any real value. _

_For years, all this crap was shoved down my throat at so-called "church." I was practically told to revere my DNA donors as gods (which flies right in the face of the First Commandment, I might add.) It didn't take me long to realize that those pedophile Satanists were only taking me to "church" to indoctrinate me and manipulate me into seeing them as little gods who were more valuable than I was and could never be questioned. I know it sounds crazy, right? Satanists infiltrating a church. As weird as it sounds, though, it happens far more often than you might think. Thankfully, God immediately granted me the wisdom to recognize that it was all just a load of abuse-enabling bull, and I made up my mind that no matter what was said at so-called "church," I would start doing whatever I could to take a stand against my DNA donors. _

_I started sneaking into my sperm donor's study and breaking into his personal computer, which at the time, was practically as big as the study itself. I saw all the records he kept of all our family's money and where it was made and how. I learned that our family had donated tens of millions of dollars over several generations to a number of orphanages and children's homes and that through those financial contributions, they basically owned those places and the people who worked there. I did some digging and discovered that all the people who were in charge of the children at these children's homes and orphanages were basically pimps who were on my DNA donors' payroll. I learned that wealthy pedophiles are willing to pay a HUGE amount of money for access to these children, and that the pimps get their cut from them, and then the rest of the money is passed on to my DNA donors. I also learned that my DNA donors make a huge amount of money from using these children for child pornography. The most headstrong, strong-willed, defiant children and teenagers in this evil system are sent off to Hell City where, one, it's easier to keep them under control, and two, pedophiles often pay even more money to have access to them for sexual encounters. _

_I thought long and hard about this for the next few years, and it took me a while, but I did manage to come up with a plan to bring this whole wicked mess crashing down on their heads once and for all. I won't tell you about all my ideas today. There are some things I will tell you, though. Over the years, I have come up with a pretty earth-shaking plan to bring an end to Hell City and my DNA donors' reign of terror against young people. I call my plan Operation Omega, since the letter omega is the last letter, the end, of the Greek alphabet, and my plan is all about the ending of my DNA donors' evil. However, I'm convinced that it's going to take another two years, possibly three, before Omega can finally be completed. In the meantime, whenever I get the opportunity, I go out and meet with pimps who are willing to sell me one or more of the child sex slaves that they own. Tragically, most people in the highest places of law enforcement have already been bought out, so they turn a blind eye to it, and calling the police on them won't do any good. Therefore, I do the next best thing, and I try to buy freedom for as many children as I can. I have a large thick black scarf with red roses on it that I tie over my head and face when I go out to meet with a pimp so that no one will know my actual identity. I meet with the pimp, negotiate a price, buy a child who is twelve years-old or older, and then I return to Eastland (or Bates) with the child and set her or him up at one of our private schools. There are two judges I've bought out with the help of our FBI friend, and whenever I rescue a child, one of them will grant the child legal emancipation. Again, thanks to the aid of our FBI friend and another FBI agent working under him named Paul, the child's paperwork is fixed to make it appear to the admissions offices of Eastland and Bates that the child has parents or legal guardians, so no one actually knows the truth about where she or he comes from. Personally, I think it's much better that way. I think these special students at Eastland and Bates should be the ones to decide who they reveal the truth to and when. I think if you could see it for yourself, you would be shocked at how badly victims are treated, ESPECIALLY victims whose age is not a high number. Victims, especially YOUNG victims, are almost NEVER believed and treated with respect. Almost NO adult out there can truly be trusted with issues like these because of the fact that they're blinded with prejudice against young people. They think that if your age isn't a high enough number, you don't deserve to be respected, heard, and taken seriously. They just want to sweep everything under the rug and pretend it isn't happening so they can selfishly keep themselves comfortable, abused children be damned. Most of the kids I've rescued are NOT ready to play Russian roulette with their spirits and try to turn to an adult for trust and help, only to be disrespected, stabbed in the back, not believed, and not taken seriously. Most of them prefer anonymity, and I see to it that their wishes are respected. So anyway, there you have it. That is the story of all the work I do with these special Eastland and Bates students behind the scenes and how it all got started._

_Speaking of life stories, right before I left Eastland for the summer break a couple of weeks ago, I heard that you'll be starting a new chapter in the story of your life as the new school dietician next fall. Congratulations on the big promotion. I've also heard that your promotion to school nutritionist isn't going to be the only big change next semester. Is it true that Mr. Bradley's leaving, or is that just a rumor?_

_Anyway, I hope you're having a great summer in Massachusetts with Raymond and Doris. I know, though, that in-laws can be a pain, and I also know that you and Doris don't exactly have the best relationship in the world. Hang in there and try to have fun anyway._

_Yours truly,_

_Ariah_

* * *

_July 3, 1980_

_My Dear Ariah,_

_I feel I must tell you that every single time I read one of your letters, I find myself amazed by your wisdom. It blows my mind to think that you are only fifteen years-old. I want you to know that I think you are an extraordinary young woman, and that you will ALWAYS have my deepest respect. I understand that you had no choice but to grow up as quickly as you did, and I must say that it truly breaks my heart. You should have had a real childhood. You should have been allowed to be a child, and you should have had REAL PARENTS, not abusive DNA donors. Whenever you describe for me in depth the things you've been through, I just cry so hard. As a mama myself, I cannot even begin to imagine doing anything to try to hurt one of my children on purpose. Thinking about everything you have gone through just makes me so sick. I live for the day when I can put my arms around you, hold you, rock you, and talk to you face to face. I want to do everything within my power to help ease your pain every day for the rest of my life._

_As far as church is concerned, I am one Christian you will never see in a church. I grew up in a strict, fundamentalist, conservative church, a place where the leadership was filled with men who preached about Jesus every Sunday but verbally, emotionally, and physically abused their wives every other day of the week. There were several wives of elders and deacons in my church that always had swollen eyes and bruised faces. They always said it happened because of a recent fall or because they were clumsy and they just kept bumping into things. But we all knew what was really going on behind closed doors. I went to a couple of other churches in my life, and they were similar. There was always a preacher in the pulpit every Sunday preaching about what a sin it was to go against the authorities that God has put over us in our lives. So many "Christian" leaders in the church are so in love with the idea of being in a place of power over people and so many congregations these days have twisted true Christianity and turned it into a cult where (male) preachers, elders, and deacons are worshiped instead of Jesus Christ in church, and husbands and parents are worshiped in the place of Jesus at home. It is absolutely tragic what is happening to the church nowadays, and I fear it is only going to continue getting worse and worse until Jesus finally returns. I'm not the least bit surprised to learn that your Satanist DNA donors have infiltrated churches and even attend church regularly in order to keep up appearances for the sake of their public reputations. This kind of thing has been happening within the church since its infancy. Just read the New Testament letters which carry repetitive warnings against being deceived by false teachers. False teachers have been infiltrating the church since practically the very beginning. Tragically, the church has NOT heeded those warnings, and just look what sorry shape it's in now._

_As far as your work in child trafficking is concerned, I must say that I'm in awe. I am AMAZED by what you are doing. I'm heartbroken by the fact that so many victims of child abuse are not believed and treated with the respect they deserve, but I cannot say that I'm surprised. There were a couple of times in my childhood church in Appleton, Wisconsin when abused wives tried to come forward in our church and call out their abusive husbands. Not only were they NOT believed; they were horribly disrespected and shunned. I imagine that for younger victims of abuse, the problem is even worse, and it tears me apart inside. I admire your decision to protect the identities of the students you've rescued. I understand why they prefer to keep everything a secret. It can be extraordinarily difficult for abuse victims to find a safe person to confide in who will take them seriously and treat them with respect._

_However, I must say that while I admire you more deeply than you will ever know for all the work you're doing, I am terribly concerned. These child traffickers you're going to meet with are violent and dangerous. I don't like the thought of you going out on your own to meet with them. It worries me very much. Our FBI friend informed me that he does try to go with you whenever he can, but I'm aware that there are some times when you go out and do this on your own. You are an extraordinary person, Ariah, and you've helped rescue many children, but YOU are still a child, yourself. This is far too much for you to carry on your own shoulders without an adult to help you. PLEASE reconsider your decision to keep your true identity a secret from me. PLEASE tell me who you really are so I can start helping you, REALLY helping you in person, in the flesh, and not just through letters. Whenever you go out to meet with one of these pieces of filth, let me be there by your side. In times like that, you SHOULD NOT be alone._

_As far as Doris is concerned, yes, it's true that we're not exactly the best of friends. However, I'm not letting that ruin my visit. Despite my less-than-stellar relationship with my daughter-in-law, I really am enjoying spending time with my son. Ever since Raymond and Alex grew up and moved out, I don't get to see them nearly as much as I'd like, and I always miss them both so much._

_Concerning everything with Eastland, yes, the rumors are true. Mr. Bradley was offered a position at an all-boys boarding school in Maine and he accepted. He won't be returning this fall. We had our arguments at times and we didn't always agree, but I will miss having him around. According to other faculty members, Mr. Harris, the man who will be taking Mr. Bradley's place next semester, is pretty stuffy and irritating. I've never met the man so I don't know if that's true or not. I'll find out for myself in a couple of months. And yes, I was quite happy when I learned that I was being promoted to school dietician. When I first agreed to step in and be a temporary housemother at Eastland, I really didn't believe that I would be staying long. However, it didn't take me long to fall in love with the girls, and with Eastland. I'll miss living in the dorm with Blair, Natalie, Tootie, Sue Ann, Cindy, Molly, and Nancy, but I am looking forward to my new work as the school nutritionist. _

_Can't wait to hear from you again. I love you so much._

_Hugs,_

_Mom_

* * *

_July 17, 1980_

_Dear Mom,_

_Thank you for everything you said. I don't cry easily, but reading what you said about you not wanting me to shoulder such heavy burdens on my own and you wanting me to have an adult by my side to help me really brought tears to my eyes. All my life, it seems that I've always had to be the adult and I've never had anybody actually want to PARENT me before. What you said means more than I can express. However, as much as I appreciate you wanting to go out on my missions with me, I can't allow that. It is VITAL that no one at Eastland knows my true identity and the work I do behind the scenes. It may sound paranoid, but there is ALWAYS a chance that I am being watched by people who are in the pockets of my DNA donors. My sperm donor's sister, my Aunt Abigail, tried to do something about all the evil he was participating in. She tried to go behind his back and inform the authorities. The poor dear lady was just so naïve. She had no idea how many cops and detectives and government officials were in my sperm donor's pocket. Tragically, she paid for what she did with her life. One day, not long after she tried to talk to the authorities, she supposedly "committed suicide" by jumping off a bridge into a river and drowning. I always knew it was a load of bull. I did some snooping around at her house one day a few weeks after she died and I found her diary. I read through the whole thing, and in it, she mentioned several times that her biggest fear was drowning to death. She said in her diary that she was so scared of the water that she wouldn't even take swimming lessons. Yet a person with a fear of drowning is supposed to have "committed suicide" by jumping off a bridge into a river and drowning to death? Give me a break! After what happened to my Aunt Abigail, I realized that if I ever decided to try and make a move against my DNA donors, I would have to find a way to do it anonymously. As a matter of fact, I can count on one hand how many kids I've freed from pimps who are on my DNA donors' payroll. It's only on very rare occasions that I make moves against them like that. The vast majority of the time, the kids I rescue are kids who were previously owned by pimps that were NOT working for my DNA donors. That'll all change one day, though. One day, when everything is ready for Omega to take place, they WILL be stopped dead in their tracks, and all their child slaves in Hell City and elsewhere WILL be freed._

_Anyway, I'm happy for you that you got the promotion you deserved, and I'm glad you're enjoying your visit with your son. Have a great rest of the summer. Looking forward to seeing you again next fall._

_Yours truly,_

_Ariah_


	7. Jo Meets Ariah

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **When a series of unexpected events causes Jo to meet the mysterious Ariah, her life is changed forever.

**Chapter 7: Jo Meets Ariah**

"You had no right to mess with my stuff, Blair!" Jo yelled at her roommate in the middle of the school cafeteria. The rest of the students had just finished lunch and emptied out of the cafeteria while Jo and her three roommates, Blair Warner, Natalie Green, and Tootie Ramsey, helped the school dietician, Mrs. Edna Garrett, clean up. But clean-up duty had been put on pause while a typical shouting match ensued between Jo and Blair.

"_I_ _had _to move your things out of the hall closet! You're such a grungy grease monkey, and I'm not having all of that motorcycle gunk getting all over my beautiful furs!" Blair fired back with what _she _felt was righteous indignation.

"I may be a 'grungy grease monkey,' but at least I'm not an inconsiderate, self-centered, spoiled little brat like you! I'm tellin' ya for the last time, Blair: keep your stupid paws off of my stuff!"

"Girls, _please_," Mrs. Garrett groaned. Ever since the girls had gotten in trouble with the school by stealing and wrecking the school van months before, they'd had to work for Mrs. Garrett in the Eastland kitchen and cafeteria to pay off the damage to the van, and they'd had to move out of the school dorms into an old storage room across the hall from Mrs. Garrett so she could keep her eye on them. Ever since then, Mrs. Garrett was responsible to the school for the girls, and she was always very kindhearted and patient with them. Unfortunately though, this evening, she was suffering from a terrible headache, and she was _not _in the mood for yet another shouting match between Jo and Blair. "I need some consideration," she told them. "My head is killing me, and all this yelling isn't helping."

"Sorry, Mrs. G.," Jo said quietly. Although she was mad at Blair, she knew how thoughtless it was of her to fuss and yell at Blair while Mrs. Garrett wasn't feeling well.

"Sorry, Mrs. Garrett," said Blair, who was also feeling remorseful.

"That's alright, girls, but please keep it down, huh?" said Mrs. Garrett as she began carrying the last load of plates and silverware into the kitchen to be washed, while Natalie and Tootie were cleaning a couple of the other tables. Jo was holding a mop in her hand, cleaning the floor, and Blair was holding a big sponge in her hand as she was _supposed _to be washing the windows.

"Yes, Mrs. Garrett," Blair and Jo said simultaneously.

As soon as Mrs. Garrett disappeared into the kitchen, Blair took another stab at Jo, telling her, "I've got better things to do than standing around here arguing with such pedestrian grease monkeys like you anyway, Jo." Jo responded with a snarky look on her face, which made Natalie and Tootie giggle softly to themselves in the background. "You all remember what night tonight is, don't you?"

"The governor's ball," Natalie and Tootie said in a similarly snarky way. There was a ball in New York City that night celebrating the governor's birthday, and thanks to her family connections, Blair had received a special invitation. Ever since she'd been officially invited a couple of weeks ago, naturally, she hadn't been able to stop talking (or bragging) about it. She'd droned on and on and on _and on _about it, driving all the other poor souls around her crazy, especially Jo.

"I've got to start getting ready," Blair announced while looking at her watch. "I haven't got another moment to waste."

"You got that right. With that nauseating face of yours, you need every possible second of preparation you can get!"

Blair gave a sarcastic chuckle and responded, "_I've _got a nauseating face? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!"

Jo simply rolled her eyes at Blair's insult, and then Blair set the big sponge she was holding down on one of the tables and headed upstairs to start getting ready.

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Blair," Jo grumbled in the foyer just outside the ballroom of a very posh hotel in New York City. While Blair had been upstairs doing her hair and makeup for the ball that day, a young man she'd known throughout her childhood, John Woodall, called her and asked her to set him up with a date. Obviously, he too was from a wealthy family like Blair's, and he had also been invited to the governor's ball, and he had been planning on going with his girlfriend. Unfortunately, his girlfriend started coming down with a fever earlier that day and had to cancel at the last minute. He knew Blair was going with her current boyfriend, an equally well-to-do boy from Eastland's brother school, Bates Academy, so he didn't try to ask her to accompany him, but he begged her to find him a suitable date for the evening. It took a fair amount of coaxing and arm-twisting on Blair's part, especially given the fact that Jo had already gone out on a date with another childhood friend of Blair's named Harrison Andrews who attempted to sexually assault her. But after numerous assurances that John Woodall was not anything like Harrison and after _relentless _pleading and begging from Blair, Jo finally agreed to go. Much to Jo's chagrin, Blair got her out of her comfortable cotton sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers and into a lovely but uncomfortable navy blue gown and black high heels that Jo absolutely _hated_, while Blair wore a long-sleeved black gown and similar black dress shoes. Thanks to Blair's fashion sense, their hair and makeup were done to perfection and the jewelry they wore went along with their gowns perfectly. They were both gorgeous young ladies, each in their own unique way, and it showed tonight. However, only _one _of them seemed to be truly happy about being there.

"And _I _can't believe how you're complaining, Jo. Not every girl gets the opportunity to go to an event like this, you know. You should show a little gratitude."

"_Gratitude? _For what? You draggin' me away from school, makin' me wear these crummy high heels, just to spend an evening with a bunch of stuck-up snobs? Don't forget, Blair, that I'm doin' this as a personal favor to you because your old friend needed a date. I never had to do this. I could have stayed home tonight, _in comfortable clothes_. If anybody needs to think about showin' _gratitude_, here, it's not me. It's you."

"Alright. Let's not fight anymore. Let's at least _try _to have a pleasurable evening. You may not be happy about being here tonight, but whether you like it or not, you are here now, and it's only sensible for you to at least attempt to make the best of it."

"Yeah, yeah," Jo quietly mumbled.

A couple of moments later, John and Blair's date, Wesley Carlton, joined them in the foyer, and then the foursome entered the ballroom together. While it seemed obvious that Blair was thrilled to be there, Jo, on the other hand, was gritting her teeth to get through it.

* * *

About an hour later, Blair really seemed to be hitting it off with most everyone that night, whereas Jo simply stood off to herself with her arms folded across her chest. As it turned out, John Woodall proved himself to be, in Jo's words, "a dumb, annoying rich nerd who got on her nerves," and they barely spoke two words to each other. And although Blair seemed to really be enjoying herself with her boyfriend Wesley, she spent a lot of time mingling with many of the other guests and he didn't get the chance to spend as much time with her as he'd hoped to that night. As usual, Jo was the utter and complete opposite of Blair, and while it looked as though Blair was thoroughly enjoying herself with all the high society mingling, Jo was all too happy to stand off to the side and basically spend the night alone. In Jo's mind, it was far better to be alone than to waste time trying to impress a bunch of clueless, snooty, middle-aged spoiled brats.

"I hate these things, too," a voice from behind Jo said, suddenly jolting her out of her own thoughts. Jo turned around and saw a short, skinny redheaded lady wearing a bronze colored gown with a (fake) mink stole draped around her shoulders. "They're so stuffy. So boring."

"No kidding," Jo agreed.

"My husband is one of the governor's guards, so obviously, he's on duty tonight. My appearance here was basically mandatory. What about you? How'd you get roped into this?"

"A friend of mine dragged me here. An old friend of hers needed a date for this thing, and she wouldn't quit houndin' me about it, so I finally gave in and said yes. Boy, do I ever regret it."

She chuckled then and told her, "Hang in there, honey. Just think of it like a bad dream you're having just a few minutes before the alarm clock goes off. It's unpleasant now, but it'll be over soon."

"Right," Jo said with a nod.

"I'm Gloria Petersen, by the way," the lady told Jo as she extended her hand.

While shaking hands with her, Jo responded, "I'm Jo Polniaczek."

"Is that short for Josephine?"

"Joanne."

"Lovely name."

"Thanks."

They spent about the next minute or so in a comfortable silence, but then all of the sudden, Gloria gasped.

"I don't believe it. I don't _believe _he had the audacity to show his face here tonight," she said angrily as a tall, obese, gray-haired man in his fifties entered the ballroom. After studying his face for a few seconds, Jo recalled who he was.

"Isn't that Horace Blackwell, the guy who owns Blackwell Wardrobe, Inc.? The Warners' biggest competitor?"

"That's him alright. He's constantly cheating on his wife, and a couple of years ago, he nearly lost his entire business because he was caught kissing a fifteen-year-old. And there are rumors that he's into child pornography. If you ask me, I say he's a sick, sick man."

"It sounds like it," Jo said with disgust.

After discussing their mutual revulsion at the man, Jo and Gloria spent the next ten minutes or so just chatting. Jo told Gloria about her life at Eastland, and Gloria talked about her husband and her two kids, one of whom was getting close to Jo's age.

But then it happened. In all reality, Jo had walked into a room filled with standing dominoes without even realizing it, and in that very moment in time, someone flicked over the first domino. That moment in time was the very beginning of an earth-shaking domino effect in Jo's life that would change it forever. It was then that Jo saw that the man she and Gloria had been talking about minutes before had made his way over to where Blair was standing, and she saw him brazenly patting Blair's hip with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. Blair stood stiff and rigid while he was doing it, and one could easily tell that she was incredibly uncomfortable.

"Excuse me," Jo said politely to Gloria, and then she quickly marched herself over to Blair. In the next moment, she purposefully got between Blackwell and Blair.

"What's all this about?" he asked, just barely masking his obvious anger and irritation.

"It's about dealin' with a creep," Jo replied with blatant fury. "I don't know who think you are, messin' with teenage kids like us, but I'm not puttin' up with it. I don't care who you are or what your status is around here or how much money you have. I'm not letting you mess with my friend. Do we understand each other?"

"Jo, please. You'll only get him angry, and that's never a good idea," Blair whispered in Jo's ear.

"I'll see you later on tonight, Blair," he said with threatening, icy coldness as he locked his terrifying eyes with hers, and then he left.

"What was that all about?" asked Jo. "And what did he mean when he said he'll see you later on tonight?"

Blair closed her eyes and held her thumb and her index finger over each eyelid for several long moments. Finally, she grabbed Jo's arm and pulled her into the nearby ladies' room so she could talk to her in private.

"Jo, there's something going on…with me, with other students at Eastland, with my family…and it's something bigger than you can even begin to imagine. And there's no way I can explain it. At least, not here, not now. But something unexpected has come up, and even though I don't like it, _I do _have to meet with him later on tonight after the ball is over, and I'll need you to go back to Eastland and tell Mrs. Garrett a cover story for me."

"No way, Blair! _No way! _You can't go anywhere with that guy. It's too dangerous. I actually heard from some woman I just met that there are rumors that he's into child pornography. God only knows what he's capable of."

Blair looked Jo square in the eyes in that instant and told her point-blank, "Jo, believe me, _nobody _knows more about what that monster is capable of than I do. Look, just cover for me tonight. It's extremely important."

"Blair, you must be out of your mind!"

"I know it doesn't make any sense, but there are reasons why I'm asking you to go along with me on this, Jo, and I promise you, they are good ones. Look, I know that you and I have had a lot of arguments and disagreements, and I know that you don't like me very much. But if there was _ever _a time in your whole entire life that you were going to trust me, for the love of heaven and earth, let that time be _now._"

Jo stayed silent over the next several moments, not knowing what to do next. She was a Bronx barbarian. She grew up on the streets, part of a street gang. She was better acquainted with the harshness of the real world than many adults were, and she knew without a doubt that it would be terribly dangerous for her to let Blair go anywhere with this sick man. But there was something in Blair's eyes that she'd never seen before. A kind of genuineness and total honesty. She knew just by looking at Blair now that she was, indeed, telling the truth. She wasn't playing games or messing around. Whatever it was that Blair was dealing with that involved this sick creep, it was something truly serious, and it was clearly important to Blair to meet up with him later tonight.

After a long pause, Jo finally said, "I'll go call Mrs. Garrett and feed her some story as to why you and I can't make it back to Eastland tonight, and then I'll go with you to meet this pervert. Whatever it is you're meeting with him about, you shouldn't go by yourself."

"Jo, it's actually _essential _that I go by myself," Blair insisted.

"Why?"

"It's far too complex to explain it all right here, right now. I'd never have enough time. Jo, I give you my solemn word that I'll be alright and that the first moment I get a chance, _I will _explain it all to you. But right now, I really, _really _need you to trust me and help me out. Please."

After another long silence, Jo finally answered, "Alright, Blair. I'll do it. I'll cover for you with Mrs. Garrett when I get back to Eastland. But the minute you get back, I wanna know what's goin' on."

"Of course. Thank you, Jo," Blair said with a grateful sigh.

* * *

As soon as Jo got back to the Eastland campus, the most shocking thing happened. There was a man from the FBI waiting for her! The moment Jo got off her bike, he got out of his car, and he informed her that Blair had gotten in touch with him, and that there were things she needed to know. Things that were actually a matter of national security, believe it or not. Jo was stunned, but the FBI badge did not lie. Whoever this man was, he actually _was _a member of the FBI, and whatever it was that Blair was involved in, she knew it _had _to be something pretty earth-shaking to say the least. He asked Jo to sit with him in his car so that they could talk privately. Under ordinary conditions, she would never have allowed herself to get in a car alone with a strange man, even if he was flashing an FBI badge. This time, however, she had a feeling in the pit of her gut that she should do what he said; that this involved Blair and that it was terribly important. So for the sake of her friend (even the one friend of hers that she didn't like very much), she got in the car with him.

Over the next hour, he revealed information to Jo that shook her to her very core. He explained that he and another FBI agent working under him were sitting on a mountain of evidence that proved that the Warners had been making money off of child pornography and child prostitution for ages, and he showed some of it to her. Then he showed her horrifying pictures the Warners had taken of them abusing Blair as a small child, and numerous other pictures of them abusing other little children as well. Afterwards, he told her about the horrors many little children suffered at the hands of pedophiles in Hell City, and he explained everything about Blair's efforts in fighting child trafficking. He showed her the meticulous financial records Blair kept of every child and teen she bought back from pimps and all the money she set aside from her personal funds to pay for each one's room, board, books, and tuition at Eastland and Bates. And he explained how kids aged sixteen and older were granted legal emancipation by the judges that were in Blair's pocket while one of the now two housemothers at Eastland and one of the housemothers at Bates, both of whom were working with Blair, were granted temporary custody of the younger children until they reached their late teens and could also be awarded legal emancipation. Then he told her about a plan that was being worked on behind the scenes to one day bring the Warners and their evil empire down for good, but warned that it would take time; that it couldn't happen overnight. And until the plan could finally be put into action, Blair was going to continue working to rescue as many kids as possible.

"In our circles, Blair goes by the name 'Ariah,'" he explained. "You may have actually heard about her."

"Yeah, you're right. I think I have," said Jo, clearly stunned. "There was this girl in my neighborhood a couple of years ago named Grace. She was basically the most beautiful girl in the Bronx. She was blonde and skinny and a lot of girls were jealous of her good looks. I wasn't, but many girls were. Personality-wise, she was a lot like me. We had a lot in common. Her dad split and her mother, who used to be a stay-at-home mom, had to go out and get a job to support them, and then she became a latchkey kid, just like I was. That was when she really went crazy and started getting into all sorts of trouble. Then one day, Grace just…disappeared. She just vanished for a year, clear out of the blue. It was crazy. Nobody knew what happened to her. Then all of the sudden, one day, she came back. She told us this wild story about how she'd run away from home a year ago because of how hurt and angry she was about her dad leaving and then ended up becoming some kind of sex slave for some pimp in a child prostitution ring. Then she told us about how some rich girl named Ariah bought her back from her pimp and gave her the money she needed to get back home. I never knew whether or not to believe her, although I always had this nagging feeling in my gut that even though it seemed pretty out there, she really was telling the truth. So…you're tellin' me that that girl's story is true and that _Blair _is really this 'Ariah' person?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm telling you. I know it's hard to believe, but in reality, the truth actually is stranger than fiction. This kind of sick depravity has been going on in human society since practically the beginning of time. As unbelievable as it may seem, it's not anything new."

"But I don't understand. If Blair is continually working her butt off behind the scenes to help victims of child trafficking like you say; if her heart really is so big that she's willing to put her life on the line to help rescue these kids, then why does she always act like a selfish, shallow, airheaded, spoiled brat and make a fool out of herself all the time?"

"Jo, you've got to remember that Blair Warner comes from a very wealthy, powerful, high-profile family. Whether you like her or hate her, it's just a plain, simple fact that Blair Warner is an American princess. She's one of the most well-known, high profile heiresses in the country. Everywhere she goes, there is _always _the risk that she is being watched and monitored. The success of Blair's movement against child trafficking depends on total secrecy. If the wrong person ever found out what Blair is doing, everything would come crashing down in a heartbeat. _Everything._"

"So Blair puts on this spoiled airhead act to keep all the people around her constantly fooled, including anybody that may be spying on her," Jo concluded.

"Monica Warner and particularly David Warner have always been paranoid, but as their fortune has increased over the years, their paranoia has only gotten worse and worse. They're constantly fearful that the people around them, even the people they trust the most, are secretly stabbing them in the back and planning their demise. And Blair has lost people in the past who were close to her, precisely because _they did _try to take a stand against her demonic DNA donors. Blair's no fool, Jo. Sure, she's an incredible actress who knows how to _play _the role of a fool, but in reality, she's not a fool at all. In fact, for a sixteen-year-old girl, she is astoundingly wise. She knows that wherever she goes, whatever she does, there is constantly a chance that she's being watched by someone working for her DNA donors. That's why it's vital that she constantly remains in character and nails every performance she ever gives as The Spoiled Rich Girl. Everything hinges on Blair's act, Jo. _Everything._ That's why she called me after she left the governor's ball with Horace Blackwell and asked me to come here and explain all of this to you. She can't just sit down with you anywhere on the Eastland campus and open up to you about this in person. Whenever Blair comes out of the character she's playing and talks about this side of her life with anyone, she must always be extremely careful in how she goes about it. She also asked me to explain all of this to you now because obviously, this is a very painful and difficult subject that's very difficult for her to talk about, and it was easier on her for me to be the one to tell you everything."

Jo remained quiet and still for several long moments, and when the FBI agent finally looked over at her, he could easily see that there were tears streaming down her cheeks. He then put his hand on Jo's shoulder and asked her, "Are you okay?"

After another long silence, Jo finally responded, "All this time, I was so mean to her. I was so cruel. I spent so much time insulting her. Making fun of her. Disrespecting her."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. There's no way you could have known," he told her kindly.

It took several minutes, but Jo finally pulled herself together and wiped her eyes, and then she and the agent said goodbye and she got out of the car.

* * *

Jo covered for Blair with Mrs. Garrett that night like they agreed, and when Blair returned to the Eastland campus the following morning, she said nothing to Jo about any of it. She was still thoroughly, one hundred percent in character, and Jo quickly sensed it from her that she expected her to play along and go on treating her just as she always did. It was very difficult for Jo, but she also understood how deeply important it was for Blair to maintain appearances, so even though it was hard, she continued to argue with Blair and insult her as usual.

Finally, two days later, Blair pulled Jo aside and asked her to meet with her in Dorm Z after class was over for the day. At twenty minutes after three, Jo met Blair in the lounge of Dorm Z like she asked, and Blair took her into a small storage room in the back that was (usually) kept locked. After Blair and Jo had stepped inside, Blair locked the door behind them.

"Welcome to my office," Blair said jokingly, and the instant she said that, there was a _huge _change in her facial expressions and demeanor, and Jo could immediately tell that Blair had finally taken the mask off. It was almost as if, in that very moment, Blair had aged fifty years.

"This is your office?"

"For the moment, yes. It's the one place on the Eastland campus that I can come to and take care of all my personal business in private, without any fear of being spied on in any way. All of the Eastland students who were previously trafficked–"

"You mean all the students you've rescued," Jo interjected.

"They're all living here in Dorm Z. And Mrs. Gordon, the housemother, lives here with them and takes care of them for me. She knows everything about the work I do." In fact, after Mrs. Garrett had gotten promoted to school dietician several months ago, she was replaced by not just one but two housemothers, because the size of the Eastland student body was growing quite rapidly.

"Why do you carry all of this all by yourself? You're family to Mrs. G. and the girls. You could come clean to them about all of this and they'd do everything in their power to support you."

"Isn't it obvious? If I do anything to involve them in this in any way, I'd be putting their safety at risk. Maybe even their lives. Going against multimillionaire pedophile pimps like David and Monica Warner is very risky business. I don't want to get them involved. It's safer for them to know nothing. The family I grew up in is terribly abusive and dangerous. My DNA donors are just not normal, Jo. They're demonic. There's just no other way to put it."

"I know. I saw the pictures of what those demons did to you."

"Yeah," Blair sighed.

"What about your cousin Geri? Does she know about any of this? Is she able to be there for you?"

"Unlike my egg donor, my aunt had enough sense _not _to marry into a family infested with occult ritual abuse and pedophilia. Geri's mother married a man who's fairly upper-class, but not so wealthy and powerful that he has to participate in occult rituals to keep his money and stay alive. I think my aunt suspects some of the things that the Warners are secretly involved in, but Geri has no clue. She's never known. And I intend to keep it that way. Geri has enough on her plate just dealing with her CP every day. I won't add to her burdens."

"So when Geri came to visit you a couple of weeks ago and you were bein' rude to her and actin' like you were embarrassed by her because of her CP…was all of that an act too?"

"Yes, it was. I couldn't react to Geri's presence the way _I _would have wanted to personally. Whenever I'm outside of this room, I have to put on an act and play a character, for everyone's sake."

"Yeah, I think I understand."

"Believe me, Jo. I wanted to be nice to Geri when she first came to Eastland that night. But if I'd treated Geri too kindly and been too much of a good sport about her taking the spotlight away from me on what was supposed to be my special night, it would have looked too suspicious to everyone. As you know all too well, that spoiled, self-centered little debutante that I play cannot tolerate the idea of sharing the spotlight with anybody else."

"I get it. And I'm sorry I came down so hard on you that night. If I'd known all the facts–"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Jo. There's no way you could have known."

"Geri's your family, though. She really cares about you. Don't you think she has a right to know?"

"It's precisely _because _she's family that I refuse to get her involved. I won't do anything to put her safety at risk, which is exactly what I'd be doing if I did get her involved in any of this. If I could have prevented it, I never would have gotten you involved either," Blair said apologetically. "But when I got that invitation to the governor's ball, I had to go. I had no choice. I play the role of The Spoiled Wealthy Debutante quite well, and when I'm playing that character, I have to go to all the big high society functions. It's expected of me. If I hadn't gone to that ball like I was expected to, I could have gotten myself into a world of trouble."

"You mean, by not going to that ball, you would've broken character, and your DNA donors' minions would've gone running back to them, telling them that there was something up with you. And if that had happened, you could've found yourself on your way to Hell City for another round of abuse."

"Precisely. I learned very early on in my life that the best way to stay alive, with all my bones intact, was to play the role they expected me to play in front of others. If I didn't smile when I was supposed to smile or laugh when I was supposed to laugh, if I wasn't everybody's cute little princess, then I was basically signing up to be abused in various ways. It was deadly for me to ever truly be myself in public, and yes, I do mean that literally."

A tear escaped from Jo's eye as she responded, "I know you do. And it's _still _deadly for you to try to be yourself in public, isn't it?"

"Definitely. I'm safe as Blair Warner, The Shallow, Spoiled, Wealthy Debutante Princess. I'm not safe as Blair Warner, The Abuse Survivor. If I had ever done anything to let on about what was really going on with my DNA donors behind closed doors, I do believe they would have killed me. I really do. However, there is another reason why it's so terribly important for me to maintain my Spoiled Princess Persona at all times. When I'm in my Spoiled Princess Act, I'm not just keeping all the other people around me fooled about my identity. I'm keeping my demonic DNA donors fooled as well, and that's a crucial factor in all of this. It's not just important to my own safety and to the continuation of my movement against child trafficking that any potential spies buy into my act. It's equally important that my DNA donors buy into it as well. _They _must believe, more than anyone else, that I'm a shallow, vain, stupid, spoiled little brat whose whole world revolves around nothing more than shopping sprees and boys. As long as I keep them fooled, then they won't be able to see me coming when I unleash my plan on them, a project I call Operation Omega. I have to tolerate their evil for now, and I also have to tolerate this sickening act that I despise for the time-being. But there _is _going to come a time when I'll be able to make my move against them and, Lord willing, bring their sick empire down for good, and free all the kids who are trapped in Hell City."

"Blair, I…I don't know what to say," a tear-filled Jo gasped. "You are…magnificent. You really are. I just wish that I had known about all of this ahead of time. If I'd known the truth about you, I never would have treated you the way I did. I'm really sorry I was always so mean to you."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Jo. Like I said before, there was no way you could have possibly known. And besides, I was never offended. As a matter of fact, I always find it a breath of fresh air when I'm in the middle of that insufferable act I hate and you go and give me a good jab. Whenever you and I are feuding and fussing and arguing, you're never actually hurting _me_, Jo. You're never insulting _me_. You're taking a good stab at a fake, phony, nauseating, ridiculous character that is as repulsive to me as it is to you."

"And now, I have to be in on the act too, don't I?"

"Yes. You can't start suddenly being nice to me now, or Mrs. Garrett and the girls would get suspicious and start asking questions, and as I already explained earlier, I don't want them to know about any of this. I don't want to get them involved."

"Right," Jo said knowingly.

"I know a thing like this is difficult for somebody like you, Jo. If I had any other choice, I would never ask you to put up an act. I know you despise that sort of thing. So do I. But given the circumstances, it's necessary. We simply cannot be too careful. It may sound crazy to you, but every time I have a private conference with somebody in here and I take my mask off, I check this room very carefully beforehand for bugs or any kind of hidden surveillance equipment."

"Given the crazy kind of family you come from – no offense," said Jo.

"None taken."

"Given your crazy 'family,' if you can even call them that," Jo continued, "I don't blame you for bein' like that. If I were in your shoes, I'd always try to be extra careful, too. And I get it about the act. I'm not thrilled with the idea of putting on a fake, phony performance in front of everybody else, but I get it. These are special circumstances. I understand why the act is necessary. Don't worry, Blair. I won't blow it. I'll go on acting the same way with you that I always have."

"Good. Now, onto the last order of business before we walk out of this room and get back to our everyday lives as 'Ordinary Eastland Students.' I know I haven't answered the questions you must have about me leaving with Horace Blackwell last night."

"Not directly, no. But I get it that it must've had something to do with all of this."

"It did. Blackwell owns a number of child sex slaves in Hell City and…well, forgive me, but in order for you to understand, I have to get into some things that are pretty personal."

"It's okay, Blair. You don't have to talk to me about anything you don't want to. You don't owe me any explanations."

"Okay," Blair sighed.

"But if you _need _to talk to someone about it, you know I'm always here for you."

"Yeah, I…I think I actually do need to talk about it. It's a pretty hard thing to carry alone," Blair admitted. It was very rare for Blair to open up to anyone about such deeply personal issues, but she really did need to talk about it in the flesh with someone like Jo who would understand in ways most people couldn't.

"I'm listening," Jo said kindly.

"Blackwell isn't like all the others. Usually, I'll sneak off campus long after everybody's gone to sleep and meet with a pimp and buy back one of the kids he's been prostituting, and then I'll set her or him up at Eastland or Bates and that's that. But Blackwell is my sperm donor's arch nemesis. He has been for decades. He despises David Warner, Jr. with every ounce of strength he has in him and if the Warners weren't so much more powerful than the Blackwells, he probably would've had him murdered long ago. I've always known this. And when I was thirteen, I found him one day when I was doing time in Hell City, and I managed to get a private audience with him. I wasn't sure if it would work or not, but I had a feeling in my gut that it would. I told him that if he would release one of the children he owned, I would do anything he wanted me to do." Blair chuckled bitterly then and told Jo, "Never say those words to a pedophile unless you're willing to pay a very high price. In his own words, he just loves screwing David Warner's daughter. He gets quite a thrill out of it."

"Sicko," said a clearly horrified Jo.

"Ever since then, we've had an agreement between us. Any time that he decides that he wants to release a child, he calls me up, and I meet him, usually at his house in New York City, and…I allow him to have sex with me. Afterwards, he releases a child into my care, and he and I go our separate ways until the next time."

"Geez, Louise," Jo gasped. "So even after you were sent away from home to this fancy boarding school, you _still_ weren't free from rape and abuse."

"I wouldn't call it rape, Jo. If Blackwell were forcing himself on me, then yes, I would call it rape. But _I _approached _him _three years ago, Jo. _I chose _to enter into this agreement with him. This whole thing is _my choice_, and just as I have to hold my demonic DNA donors accountable for their own decisions, I too have to accept responsibility for my own choices. And yes, it's painful knowing that I'm basically choosing to be a prostitute, but knowing that I'm doing it to get kids out of this hell makes it easier. It's tough, but I've learned to live with it."

"Blair, you're wrong," Jo told her as her green eyes filled with fury at the thought of what was being done to her friend. "Just because Blackwell isn't physically forcing himself on you doesn't mean you aren't being raped. For one thing, there is no possible way _a thirteen-year-old _could give consent, legally or otherwise. And for that matter, neither can a sixteen-year-old."

"Maybe not according to the law, but–"

"No buts. Any man his age that has sex with a minor is a child rapist, Blair. End of story. And I'll tell you something else. That sick pervert shouldn't ever _own _a child or any human being in the first place. You talk about holding people accountable for their choices. What about Blackwell? _He's _the one who's choosing to hold little kids in bondage. _He's_ the one who's choosing to spend his life raping and abusing kids. You may 'choose' to have sex with him, but it's only because you know that if you don't, a little kid is gonna continue to suffer at his hands. That's not an actual choice, Blair. That's _coercion_. And coercing a minor into having sex under the threat that he will continue to do harm to a child if you don't is _rape_, Blair. Plain and simple. You're not prostituting yourself. _You're enduring rape._"

"Well whatever it is I'm enduring, I'll just have to continue. Until the time finally comes that I can put Omega into play and bring Hell City and all its perverts down for good, I've got to do whatever I can to get as many kids out of there as possible. As Mrs. Garrett told me once, doing the right thing is a responsibility, not an option."

Tears filled Jo's eyes then as she said to Blair, "I can't imagine it. I grew up in the hood, on the streets. I've seen a lot. I've been through a lot. But I can't even _begin_ to imagine something like this. I don't know how you do it. If it were me, I would've lost my mind a long time ago."

"There are times when I have come pretty close to losing my sanity," Blair admitted. "In reality, there is only one reason why I haven't just completely fallen apart. That reason is my relationship with Jesus. You know what the Bible says about how a person must be born again to see the kingdom of God, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, let me tell you something. If I hadn't trusted in Jesus Christ to forgive me of all my sins and save me from hell, and become born again as a result, I would've crumbled a long time ago. My flesh would love to take the credit. In my own pride, I'd love to be able to say that I'm able to endure all of this because I'm such a strong person, but that's just not true. It's the Holy Spirit living inside me. The Holy Spirit is the reason why I didn't literally go insane years ago. It's not me. It's not my own personal strength. It's the Almighty God living in me and working through me. _He's _the reason why I can endure all of this and not go crazy."

Jo nodded and said, "I believe you. And I have to admit that I'm actually kind of jealous of you in a way. I was born and raised a Catholic, and I've always wanted a relationship with Jesus, I mean a _real _relationship, but I realized long ago that I could never do enough. I couldn't pray the rosary enough times. I couldn't go to confession enough times. I could never do enough penance to be good enough for God. So I just kind of gave up. I didn't see the point in even trying."

"I know exactly what you're talking about. On the surface, Monica and David Warner are Upstanding, Churchgoing Catholics, and I also grew up in the Catholic church. I grew up being taught that I basically had to earn my own way to heaven. But then when I really got to studying the Bible on my own, I realized how impossible it was for _any _human being to earn his or her own way to God and an eternity in heaven. That's the whole point of the cross, Jo. Jesus Christ went to the cross and died on the cross to do the very thing for humanity that we could never _hope_ to do for ourselves. When you put your trust in Jesus, you receive His perfect righteousness. No one is ever getting into heaven through their own righteousness, Jo, because the Almighty God is perfect and holy and His standard can be nothing less than pure perfection. No fallen, imperfect human being can ever attain that on his or her own. The only way _anyone _can ever get to heaven is if he or she has Christ's perfect righteousness, and the only way a person can have that is by trusting in Jesus and what He did for humanity on the cross. When Jesus died on that cross almost two thousand years ago, He became the perfect sacrifice for everyone's sins. All anyone needs to do now is say yes. It's a free gift."

"But don't we have to live a certain way afterwards in order to keep that supposedly 'free gift'? I mean, it's not as if a person can accept Jesus's payment for their sins on their behalf and then be born again as a result, and then go out and rob a bank or shoot somebody, and still be saved. It doesn't work that way. It _can't _work that way. Didn't Jesus say to take up your cross and follow Him?"

"That's a common misunderstanding many people have. Even many Christians often make the mistake of combining salvation and discipleship when they are, in fact, two entirely different things. Salvation _is _a free gift. Discipleship, however, is very costly. A person _can _accept Christ's free gift of eternal life that He bought for humanity on the cross with His blood, _without _choosing to serve Him as one of His disciples. Just look at Lot. He was a pretty sorry guy. When angels came to take Lot and his family away from Sodom right before God judged it, a rape gang asked Lot to hand the angels over to them. He was such a pathetic excuse for a father, so unconcerned about the well-being of his very own children, that he was actually willing to hand his own daughters over to that rape gang to be raped instead. He was a sorry man. But in the New Testament, the Bible actually says that he was righteous, and the reason he was righteous in God's sight certainly had nothing to do with the way he lived his life. He was obviously a terrible person. But he actually _was _righteous because he trusted in the Messiah who was to come to save him from his sins. This fact makes a lot of people uncomfortable, but it _is _a fact nonetheless that _yes_, people actually _can _accept Jesus's perfect sacrifice on their behalf and still go out there and live any way they please, precisely _because _eternal life is a free gift and _not _an earned reward. But just because born-again Christians never have to worry about going to hell when they die, that does not mean that if they choose to waste their lives serving themselves instead of serving Jesus as His disciples, there won't be consequences. There's _always _consequences for sin. Again, look at Lot. Look how Mr. Father of the Year ended up. After Lot and his daughters escaped from Sodom, his daughters got scared that there wouldn't be any men that they could marry and have children with, so his daughters actually got him drunk and then had sex with him and had children by him. It could be argued that the man who was willing to send his own daughters out to a rape gang actually ended up being raped instead. And it all happened as a consequence of his life of sin. Lot may have gone to heaven when he died, but in this life, he wasn't spared an incestuous union with his own daughters and he wasn't spared from being remembered by anyone even vaguely familiar with Scripture as a creep who was willing to send his own daughters out to be raped."

"Yeah. Judging by the facts, I think it's pretty obvious that Lot was a pretty sorry father who never bothered to teach his kids any morals."

"I agree. He probably didn't. And I think it's clear that he reaped the consequences of all his years of sin and selfishness and sorry parenting."

"I think I get what you're tryin' to tell me, Blair. I never really thought about these things before, but now that I am thinking about it, it makes sense. It makes sense that eternal life is a free gift and not an earned reward, but that just because a person trusts in Jesus and is born again, it doesn't mean that God will protect that person from the consequences of evil behavior."

"And those consequences aren't confined to this life, either. All born again believers in Christ will be judged for the way they lived their lives, only God's children aren't judged in terms of their eternal destiny because Jesus already took care of that at the cross. God's born again children through Jesus are judged on the basis of rewards. If a believer refuses to serve Jesus as one of His disciples and spends the rest of his or her life living selfishly, that person won't have any rewards at their judgment. After the hell Jesus went through on the cross, earning rewards, such as various crowns discussed in the New Testament, to lay at His feet, is the perfect way for us to show Him our gratitude. And if a believer doesn't have anything to lay at Jesus's feet because of having lived a selfish life, well, I imagine that would be a very bitter pill to swallow."

"Yeah, I'll bet it would be," said Jo, deep in thought.

"Thankfully, eternal life is a free gift and after you accept it, you never have to worry about losing it. Jesus isn't fickle, Jo. He doesn't just change His mind about saving you because of bad behavior. If that were true, nobody would ever have a chance at being saved. Like we've been saying, there are consequences for evil behavior, but losing your relationship with Christ is never one of them. Once you become a child of God, you never stop being one."

Jo remained silent for several moments, lost in thought, and then she finally told Blair, "Thank you. You've really given me a lot to think about."

"I hope I've helped."

"You have," Jo told her seriously. "More than you know."

"Good."

Jo then gave Blair a fierce hug, and afterwards, she said, "It was a privilege to meet you and talk with you today, Ariah. Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Jo," Blair said in an emotional whisper. "You were a big help to me today, too."

"I'm glad. Listen, anytime you need me, just tell me when to meet you in here, and I'll come. I'm always here for you. Okay?"

"Yeah," Blair whispered. "Thanks."

"And thank you for trusting me. Your trust is a gift. I get that."

Blair nodded, and then they embraced once again, and finally, they left and went back to their "ordinary" lives as "everyday Eastland students."

* * *

The following Sunday, six days after her talk with Jo, Blair received word from one of her contacts that there was a pimp who was interested in meeting with her and selling her one of his teen prostitutes (a.k.a. slaves). She agreed to meet with him at midnight that night. However, all through the day, she kept getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach about the meeting. She'd never met with guy before, but she had heard of him. He was notorious for being especially cruel to the teens he owned, and even though he had never been charged (and probably never would be because of all the police corruption), it was basically common knowledge for everyone who knew of him that he had been involved in the murder of a number of his slaves.

At twenty minutes after two, Blair walked into the cafeteria. Mrs. Garrett had gone upstairs to take a nap after getting her eyes dilated at the doctor's office, and Sue Ann, Cindy, Natalie, and Tootie were all sitting together at one of the tables doing some major gossiping. (Mrs. Garrett's eye doctor was an old friend of hers, and he agreed to see her earlier that day, even though it was a Sunday, because neither one of them could find room in their schedules to do her yearly eye exam at any other time.)

"I just can't believe it," said Cindy. "I can't believe that our Mrs. Garrett is actually an alcoholic!"

"Shh!" said Natalie.

"Keep your voice down!" Sue Ann scolded her in a whisper.

"Natalie, Tootie, you guys live right across the hall from Mrs. Garrett. Tell us. Have either of you noticed anything strange about her behavior lately?" asked Cindy. "I mean besides the fact that she was stumbling around in the cafeteria in a drunken stupor earlier this afternoon," she added.

"No, I haven't noticed anything," Nat replied. "Have you, Tootie?"

"Not a thing."

"Mrs. Garrett's always been such a paragon of virtue around here. Who would've ever dreamed she was secretly abusing alcohol?" asked Sue Ann.

"Not me," Tootie responded.

"Me neither," said Natalie.

"I guess it's always the ones who appear to have the most squeaky clean lives that actually have the most skeletons in their closet," said Cindy.

Blair didn't know what was going on with Mrs. Garrett or what it was that could have possibly led all the girls to suddenly believe that she had a secret problem with alcoholism, but Blair knew one thing for sure: it was all a load of garbage. Blair Warner was an excellent judge of character. She had been her entire life. She'd always _had _to be able to judge people well in order to keep herself alive. And Blair knew that contrary to popular belief, Edna Garrett was not perfect by any means. She often had a very real problem with her own personal biases against young people, and whenever Blair or any of the girls had been hurt by one of their parents, she constantly sided with their parents and overlooked their side of things. It was a problem Blair knew almost every adult had. And while Mrs. Garrett was typically very giving and sensitive and selfless, there was a part of her that was actually pretty self-righteous. However, even though Mrs. Garrett had her share of faults just like any other human being, Blair knew that alcoholism was _not _one of them, and that the whole idea was utterly ridiculous.

And although she loved Natalie and Tootie dearly, right now, she wanted nothing more than to smack both of them upside their heads good and hard for being such annoying, backstabbing, ungrateful little brats. Mrs. Garrett had done a very great deal for all of them. She'd pleaded with Mr. Harris to save them from expulsion and taken on a ton of extra responsibilities that she _wasn't _being paid for. She'd given up her private bathroom and any possible shred of privacy she could have hoped to have had so that they could live across the hall from her and she could keep her eye on them. She'd gone the extra mile for them and then some so that they could stay at Eastland, and it really burned Blair up inside to see how Natalie and Tootie were repaying her great kindness to them. Were they even _trying _to be fair to Mrs. Garrett and get _her _side of the story first before jumping to any conclusions? No. They were just stabbing Mrs. Garrett in the back with their stupid, childish gossip, just for the fun of it, without giving her feelings a second thought. And Cindy and Sue Ann were equally disappointing. Had they, too, so quickly forgotten all the love and kindness Mrs. Garrett had shown to them in the time she was living in their dorm as housemother? Blair knew that ordinarily, this would be her cue to put the mask on and sit down at their table and join in on their gossip in her role as The Spoiled Rich Girl, but she just couldn't do it. Not now. Instead, she quickly and quietly slipped out of the cafeteria, unnoticed by the girls, and went out to take a walk.

* * *

Blair walked out to the stable, which was near Eastland Creek. Blair actually had her own horse at Eastland and his name was Chestnut. Two other girls had also brought their own horses to Eastland that year, and they were sharing the stable with Chestnut. Tootie's two rabbits, Romeo and Juliet, used to live in the stable as well, but Tootie found a new home for them months before, so they were no longer there.

Blair and Chestnut had a long history together. They were old friends. Back when he lived at Mr. Warner's ranch in Texas, Blair spent as much time with him as she possibly could. He was a very gentle, loving animal, and his presence in her life was often a kind of soothing balm for her inner wounds. It was very therapeutic for Blair to just saddle him up and take him for long rides along the riding trails at Mr. Warner's ranch. It was good for her to just get away from it all with her old, dear animal friend. And when Blair found out he was being sold two years ago, she went to Mr. Warner and talked him into letting her keep Chestnut. She even convinced him to call Eastland and make arrangements for him to stay there with her during the school year.

As soon as Blair entered the stable, she walked right up to Chestnut and gave him a big, long hug. As she hugged the animal, it began to hit her: she really could get killed tonight. Every mission she'd ever done to buy back kids from the hellish world of human trafficking had carried some risk. Blair wasn't blind to that. After all, Blair was going out to meet and negotiate with pimps on a regular basis, and there was no such thing as a nice, safe, non-abusive pimp. However, she knew beyond a doubt that this mission would be her riskiest one yet. Her gut kept telling her no; that she shouldn't go through with it; that it was a bad idea. But her conscience kept telling her that as long as there was a snowflake's chance in hell that she could free at least one kid from sexual slavery, she had to go through with it. And whenever there was a battle between Blair's gut and her conscience, her conscience always won.

Blair then took in a deep breath, let out a long sigh, and saddled up Chestnut. She took him for a nice long ride that afternoon, and then after she brought him back to the stable, she walked to Eastland Creek. Blair spent the longest time just sitting down on the ground and watching the water gently flow. It was a truly relaxing, refreshing scene to take in. The clear creek, surrounded by all the luscious green of the woods around it, was breathtaking, and on this day, it was more beautiful to Blair than it ever had been before.

* * *

He'd asked to meet with Blair in the parking lot of the town grocery store. It was a small, family-owned business that closed at nine o'clock every night. The parking lot was empty, and there wasn't any light around except for the neighborhood street lights. As soon as Blair walked up to him and saw the pure cold evil in his gray eyes, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she'd made the wrong choice in going there to meet with him tonight. He wasn't interested in striking any kind of deal with her and selling her one of his slaves. He was only interested in one thing tonight: hurting her.

Ariah was famous for her black scarf that had red roses on it. Whenever she met with a pimp, she always had that scarf tied in place, covering her entire face, with the obvious exception of her eyes. No pimp had ever seen Ariah's actual face before. But this guy, who was six-feet-five and two hundred sixty pounds, didn't need to see Blair's face to know that just his mere presence scared her to death. All he had to do was look into her chestnut eyes to see the terror in them.

In the next moment, he grabbed Blair by the throat and began slowly squeezing the life out of her. As he continued to cut off her airway, his gray eyes bore down into her chestnut eyes, and he told her, "You've been making way too much trouble for my buddies and me as of late, and we don't like it. We don't appreciate you butting in where you don't belong. If we were living in some place like the Philippines where kids are basically a dime a dozen, we wouldn't have this problem. But in the U.S., it takes forever to kidnap a beautiful kid and groom her and train her for this work. And when you come along and start playing on my buddies' conscience and start making them feel bad and start convincing them to sell you one of their kids, it makes it a whole lot harder on the rest of us. Thanks to you, our kids are getting harder and harder to control because _you _keep making them think they're going to be rescued someday. You're interfering with my business, and I never allow anyone to interfere with my business. I'm killing you right here and now. It's nothing personal. It's just business."

His grip around Blair's throat tightened then, and Blair's vision started to go black. Blair _knew _she was going to die right here, right now. This was it. It was over. This was how her life was going to end.

But then in the next moment, the man suddenly felt the cold barrel of a pistol up against the back of his head.

"Let her go," a young woman's voice commanded. "Let her go and walk away _now_, or I'll blow your head off."

This pimp was cold and evil, but he wasn't stupid. He knew better than to try to argue with anyone who had a gun. In that instant, he released Blair from his deathly grip and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. He then did as the young woman said and took off.

"Blair!" the young woman cried out, and then she got down on her knees in front of Blair. After several moments of coughing and gasping, Blair finally got her breath back. She then let the young woman help her stand up, and afterwards, she saw who it was that rescued her.

"Jo!" Blair said aloud. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'll explain later. First, we need to get outta here."

"Agreed," said Blair, and then she and Jo hopped on Jo's bike and rushed back to Eastland.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Blair and Jo were standing together in the storage room of Dorm Z. Blair had taken off her scarf and her invisible mask, and she and Jo started having a frank discussion about what had just happened.

"Jo, _what in the world _were you doing out there? You could have been killed!" Blair cried out.

"I could say the same thing to you, Blair. What were _you _doin' out there in that parking lot in the middle of the night with that pimp?"

"You know very well what I was doing out there. I was doing my job."

"And I was doing mine," Jo insisted.

"Buying back kids from pimps is _not _your job, Jo."

"No. But lookin' out for you is."

"Since when?"

"Since now. Look, before I found out the truth about you, I hated your guts. But now that I know the whole story, there's no way that I'm just gonna sit on my butt and do nothin' when I know that you're puttin' yourself in danger."

"I never said a word to you about my plans tonight. How did you know?"

"You always go out for a ride on that horse of yours whenever you've got somethin' heavy on your mind and you wanna get away from everybody for a while. If today had been a normal day, you would've wasted the afternoon gossiping with the girls about Mrs. Garrett's so-called 'drinking problem,' or you would've wasted the afternoon pretending to be mad at me and pretending to fight with me because I supposedly blabbed about your secret date with Roger to Nancy, even though we both know it was really Tootie who did it. You would've stayed in character throughout the day, just as usually do. You wouldn't have isolated yourself. And when you came back from your ride with Buttercup–"

"Chestnut," Blair corrected her.

"Sorry, Chestnut. When you came back from your ride with Chestnut, I saw somethin' in your eyes that I'd never seen before."

"What?"

"Fear. Your face was tryin' to play the part of The Spoiled Debutante, but I could see it in your eyes that somethin' was really wrong. Knowing that you consider meeting with violent pimps to buy back child sex slaves to be your job, it wasn't that hard putting two and two together. I figured you were plannin' on goin' out to meet with somebody dangerous, so I kept my eye on you, and when I saw you sneakin' away from campus, I followed you. My gut told me that you'd probably need a little backup tonight, and my gut was right, as it always is."

"Well first of all, Jo, I thank you very much for what you did tonight. You saved my life. Literally. I owe you one."

"Eh, forget it," Jo said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's on the house."

"Second, while I appreciate you wanting to be my bodyguard tonight, you can't ever do anything like this again. If I'm choosing to put myself in danger, that's my business. But I can't let you put yourself in danger. This isn't your fight, Jo. It's mine. This is about me. It doesn't concern you."

"It does now."

"Why?"

"Are you _really _gonna make me spell it out for you?"

"I'd appreciate it if you would."

"Because you're my friend. Even in the beginning when I was so sure I hated everything about you, there was still a tiny part of me deep down that liked you and considered you a friend. And now that I know about everything you've gone through, everything you're _still _going through, to try and put a stop to some of the evil in this world, there isn't anything I won't do to try and help you. I care about you and respect you too much to just ignore everything and try to go back to the way things were before. I am _not _gonna just go about my everyday life, acting as if the past several days never happened. I can't do that, Blair. That's not who I am. And as for this not being my fight, with all due respect, you're just flat-out wrong about that. This _is _my fight. This is _every_ human being's fight. _Everyone _should take a stand against this kind of evil. Most people won't, but they _should._ And besides, your fights _are _my fights because I care about you. If you have the inner-strength and the guts to go out there and face violent, child-rapist, slave-owning pimps, the way I see it, being your bodyguard is the least I can do."

Blair quickly wiped a tear from her eye then and said, "This reminds me of some things Mom said when I started writing to her." Blair had already explained to Jo about the mother/daughter relationship she secretly had with Mrs. Garrett through their letters. "All my life, I always felt so alone in this. When I started writing Mom, she made me feel for the very first time that I wasn't doing this alone anymore. Now, I'm getting that feeling all over again."

"You're getting that feeling again because it's true, Blair. You're _not _doing this alone. Not anymore."

As more tears filled Blair's eyes, she looked at Jo and whispered, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Just let us help you."

Blair then gave Jo the longest, fiercest hug, and she returned the hug just as fiercely. Once the embrace was over, Blair wiped her eyes, and then she looked at Jo and asked, "Where did you get that gun?"

"Oh, Sally? I've had her for ages."

"You named your gun…_Sally?_"

"Why not? Sally's just as good a name as any."

"You keep a gun named Sally on campus?"

"No, of course not. I have an excellent hiding place for Sally, but believe me, it isn't anywhere on the Eastland campus. And whenever I put Sally back into her hiding place, I always, _always _unload her first."

"Thank the Lord. Jo, just how long have you had that gun?"

"Ever since I first joined the Young Diablos when I was twelve."

"You've been packing heat since you were _twelve?_" Blair asked in astonishment.

"I was in a _street gang_, Blair. What do _you _think? To walk around the streets of my neighborhood without some form of protection is suicide. In my neighborhood, you take your chances just steppin' outside your door."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Blair said quietly, feeling sad for Jo that she too had such a rough upbringing. "Well anyway, I don't know about you, but after tonight's ordeal, I am exhausted. I'm going to call it a night."

"Yeah, I think I'll turn in too. That is, as soon as I unload Sally and put her back in her hiding place."

"Yes, please do," said Blair as she walked to the door and put her hand on the doorknob.

"Of course."

Blair then turned around to face Jo and she said, "Oh, and Jo?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks again. For everything."

"It's the least I can do," Jo told her honestly, and then after the two girls exchanged a knowing smile, Blair went off to bed, and Jo went to unload her gun and return it to its hiding place.

* * *

It was eight o'clock the following evening, and Jo and Blair were in the kitchen, drinking glasses of fruit punch, trying terribly hard to get the taste of envelope seals out of their mouths.

"I can still taste it. How about you?" Jo asked Blair.

"Sure can," Blair said glumly.

"You know, you probably shouldn't have volunteered to help Tootie out with all those invitations to the alumni dance today. After all, you spoiled debutantes are such dainty little flowers. All that menial labor probably tired you out."

In that moment, Blair was able to take one look into Jo's green eyes and decipher what it was she was _really _saying. No one else could've read between the lines, but Blair was able to. She knew that underneath Jo's insult, she was _really _saying that after everything she'd just been through the night before, she should have just taken it easy and enjoyed the rest of her day; that she shouldn't have had to pay the price for Tootie's gossip.

"I'll have you know, you irritating barbarian, that I am perfectly fine, thank you very much. I am not a dainty little flower, and I'm not tired after merely sealing a few envelopes. And besides, it was only fair for me to help Tootie out. After all, like all the other girls, I too was gossiping about Mrs. Garrett."

It was the same thing for Jo. In that second, she was able to take one look into Blair's chestnut eyes and see the kindness in them and read between the lines of what she was saying. Blair was really assuring Jo that she was fine after the harrowing events of last night, and she was telling her that even though she only joined in on the gossip about Mrs. Garrett to maintain her act, she felt it was only right that she accept responsibility for it by helping Tootie out with the invitations.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Jo agreed.

"Anyway, none of it matters anymore. We all know now why Mrs. Garrett was stumbling around in the cafeteria in front of Tootie yesterday. The whole situation has been straightened out, so let's just finish our punch and try and get the awful taste of these envelope seals out of our mouths, and let's move on with our lives."

"Agreed," Jo said with a sigh while maintaining eye contact with Blair. Blair's message to Jo then was quite obvious, and Blair could see it on Jo's eyes that she was reading between the lines and truly understanding what it was she was really saying. Yes, they had gone through a terrifying experience, but they had to move on now. Jo gave Blair a slight nod, and Blair smiled to herself. For the first time ever, she had a friend with her, in the flesh, who _actually understood _everything she was going through inside. For the first time in her life, she really _wasn't _going through everything alone. To Blair, it was a beautiful, astonishing, and most unexpected gift.


	8. Sisters

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary:** Jo tries to help Blair work through the psychological fallout of Cynthia's recent suicide.

**Chapter 8: Sisters**

It was five-thirty that evening in early March, and the sun was just starting to set as Blair remained sitting on the railing of the bridge that went across Eastland Creek, watching the beautiful winter sky. (The bridge had been built a couple of months after Mr. Bradley broke his ankle while trying to cross the creek to get to Blair and Tootie during the flash flood that had occurred during the previous school year.) Even though it was now March, winter was still clinging to Peekskill, particularly to the Eastland campus – and to Blair's heart. Just yesterday, an intelligent, caring, charismatic young girl with a bright future ahead of her suddenly, out of nowhere, chose to take her own life. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. All of Eastland was still reeling over it. However, even though it didn't _look_ that way on the surface, the unexpected, untimely death of sixteen-year-old Cynthia Foster was hitting Blair harder than anyone else.

Blair knew she was missing her cooking and cleanup duties in the kitchen and cafeteria tonight, and she was certainly going to apologize to Mrs. Garrett for it later, but right now, she just had too much on her mind, and there was no one she could really open up to about it. Of course, now that Jo knew most of Blair's deepest and darkest secrets, there was always the possibility that she could open up to Jo, but she really didn't want to trouble Jo with any of this. While Jo was a wonderful friend that Blair deeply appreciated, she knew that it certainly wasn't Jo's job to be her therapist. And besides, the last thing in the world Blair wanted to do right now was to talk about what was really going on inside of her. More than anything right now, she just wanted to be alone; to completely isolate herself from the rest of the world.

Blair remained sitting on the railing of the bridge like that, just completely lost in her own thoughts, for the next two hours. Finally, at seven-thirty that chilly night, Jo found her, and she sat down on the railing beside her.

"Mrs. Garrett's worried about you," Jo informed her. "And so am I. Is everything alright?"

Blair then turned her head and looked Jo right in the eyes, and she asked her, "Do you really want an honest answer to that question, or do you just want the expected platitudes?"

"Don't you know me better than that by now? I want honesty, Blair. I _always _want honesty. You know that."

"Okay," Blair sighed. "No, everything is not alright. Everything is absolutely terrible right now, and I don't want to talk about it. I just want to be alone right now. There's your honest answer."

Sensing what was really going on, Jo looked at her friend and asked her point-blank, "Blair, are you out here in the woods, all depressed, cutting yourself off from everybody, because you're blamin' yourself for Cynthia's death?"

Again, Blair sighed, and she just closed her eyes for the longest time. Finally, she answered, "I do blame myself. I've been there, Jo. There's been a number of times in my life when I've been so crushed, so heartbroken, so devastated, so hopeless, that I seriously contemplated doing what Cynthia did. I know how it feels to be so desperate to make the pain stop that you'll do anything, even end your own life. There have been times when I've been in so much agony inside that all it would have taken was one unkind word, one thoughtless gesture, to push me over the edge. We both know I never treated Cynthia with very much kindness. Heck, I never treated Cynthia with _any _real kindness at all. Like I said yesterday, I was cruel to her, and I was sarcastic to her, and all because I'm playing the role of a selfish, narcissistic little brat who would only see Cynthia as competition, not as a fellow human being who deserved kindness and love." Tears began stinging Blair's eyes in that moment as she realized that she was coming out of character in a place that _was not _within the safety of Dorm Z. The last thing Blair wanted was to take unnecessary chances. However, she was just so devastated and her normal defenses were so badly weakened that tonight, all her thoughts and feelings were coming out to Jo at the Eastland Creek Bridge whether Blair wanted them to or not.

"_You have _to put on that act, Blair. It's the only way you can protect all the people who are depending on you. You know that."

"I know; I know," said Blair as more tears started streaming down her face. "But I still can't help but ask myself, 'Was it a cruel word from me that pushed Cynthia over the edge? Did Cynthia kill herself because of me? Is this whole thing my fault?'"

"Blair, Cynthia did not kill herself just because you got a little sarcastic with her and acted like a bad sport when you lost the student election to her. Whatever the reason was, it was something that ran a lot deeper than a student election or a bit of sarcasm from you."

"That's what I keep trying to tell myself, but like I said a minute ago, I've had times when I've been in such an emotionally fragile state that something as seemingly unimportant as a little sarcastic remark would have been my breaking point. It says in the book of Proverbs that death and life are in the power of the tongue and those who love it will eat its fruit. Words _do _carry tremendous power, Jo. A person's words can build up a wounded soul and restore hope, or they can rob a person of her will to live. What if my words did the latter to Cynthia?"

"Blair, listen to me. Nobody ever takes you too seriously around here. We all know that the character you play is filled up with more hot air than a helium blimp." Blair laughed at that. "And Cynthia knew it too," Jo insisted. "I'm positive that she never took anything you had to say too seriously. Nobody does. And you cannot overlook the fact that by playing this phony character that you despise, you're doing what you have to do to protect all the kids under your care, and to protect your overall mission to put a stop to child trafficking as well. You were doing what you had to do, and you know that. And you are not responsible for the choice that Cynthia made. Blair, you cannot hold yourself responsible for the whole rest of the world. Yes, this world is a vicious, cruel, mean-spirited place. Yes, there are a lot people in this world who are really, really hurting, like Cynthia was. But _Cynthia _was the one who decided to react to all the pain she was goin' through by committing suicide. That was _her _choice."

"And what about the people who _drove her_ _to _that choice? You know how many people in the highest levels of our government commit atrocities to children, sometimes even to _their own _children, behind closed doors. And Cynthia was the daughter of a high-ranking diplomat. For all we know, she might have endured years of occult ritual abuse that nobody knew about, just as I have."

"You have a good point. It is possible. Maybe even likely. But still, _you stayed_. You chose to stick it out; to use your mind and your resources to find ways to reach out and try to help as many people as possible. In the end, when Cynthia chose to commit suicide, she was only thinkin' about herself. I'm very fortunate; I don't struggle with suicidal depression. And I can't even begin to imagine what people like you and Cynthia, who have had that struggle, must go through. But the difference between you and Cynthia is, despite all the agony that you've been through personally, you were still willing to look beyond yourself and keep going and use your pain to help kids who have suffered the same way you have. Cynthia wasn't willing to do that. Had Cynthia stuck it out and allowed herself to grow up into an adult, there's no tellin' how much good she could have done. For all we know, she could have gone on to become a trained counselor, and maybe she could have helped dozens of kids struggling with suicidal depression like she did. But now she'll never get that opportunity because she didn't think about the possibility of usin' her life to do good things for others. Nor did she think about how much her death would hurt the people who cared about her. Like I said, in the end, Cynthia was only thinkin' about herself. Even though I feel awful for people like Cynthia and my friend Gloria who resort to suicide, it's just a cold, hard fact that suicide is a selfish, cowardly act."

Blair remained silent for a long moment, and then she took in a deep breath through her nostrils and blew out a long sigh. Finally, she said, "When a person is in her right frame of mind and she's thinking clearly, it's easy to see the point that you're making. The trouble is, when you're in so much personal agony that you're willing to kill yourself to stop the pain, you are literally out of your mind and you _cannot_ think clearly. And so often, in times like that, you're not going to be surrounded by people who truly love you and are concerned about your well-being. Most of the time, in your most desperate hours, you're going to be surrounded by inhuman pieces of filth who are going to be cruel to you, rob you of the love you desperately need and crave, and make suicide all the more appealing."

"And those kinds of people are guilty of murder. Anyone who sees another human being in agony, either physical or emotional agony, and knowingly does anything to make that person's pain worse, to make it even harder for that suffering person to hold onto her will to live than it already is, is a murderer at heart."

"You'd be surprised how many murderers are Upstanding, Churchgoing, Christian Pillars of the Community in public."

"I know. It's crazy, right?"

"And tragic. The church _should _be the _first_ place people are able to turn to when they're suffering from abuse at home or dealing with things like mental illness and suicidal depression. But the sick reality is, church is often the _worst _possible place people struggling with those issues can go to, and I'm talking about Protestant evangelicals as much as I am about Catholics."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know for sure. I'm guessing that one main reason for it is that over the centuries, the Christian church failed to heed Christ's warnings about false teachers and because of that, most of the church has been overrun by people selfishly twisting the Scriptures for their own evil motives. And I'm guessing that another reason for it is because most professing Christian church leaders overall have become far more interested in making money than in preaching the true gospel and helping those who are hurting."

"I think you're right. I also think it's because issues like mental illness and clinical depression and child abuse and domestic abuse make everybody uncomfortable, and professing Christians are no exception. People who claim to know Jesus Christ should be leading the way in helping people who are the most marginalized in society, just as Jesus did. But typically, it's the so-called 'Christians' who do most of the marginalizing. I know Jesus wept after Lazarus died. I bet things like this must also make Him weep."

"I'm sure it does. I may not be weeping with actual tears in my eyes right now, but in here," Blair said while pointing to her chest, "I'm constantly weeping over this."

"That's because you're a sensitive, loving person who unlike so many people nowadays, actually understands the concept of the word _empathy._"

"I'm so scared, Jo. I'm so scared that I may have played a role in Cynthia's death, even if it wasn't intentional."

"Please stop bein' so hard on yourself. You're walking the strictest tightrope walk ever, and lives depend on what you do every day. And you're doing the best you possibly can, in an impossible situation. You're not God, Blair. You may be a genius, but still, you do not have infinite knowledge. There's no way you could have known that Cynthia was suicidal. And you _do not _have to accept responsibility for the whole rest of the world. I know that Cynthia was really hurting, and I know that she may not have been in her right mind when she chose to commit suicide. But it doesn't change the fact that on some level, at some point, people just have to accept at least some responsibility for their own lives and their own choices. Whatever it was that had Cynthia so devastated that she wanted to end her own life, she had an obligation to the people who cared about her to seek help, and she chose not to. We have a professional counselor here at Eastland that she could've talked to. She could've talked to Mrs. Garrett or Tootie or Natalie or me or any of her friends here. We don't have that suicide hotline set up here at Eastland yet, but still, there are a number of other suicide hotlines Cynthia could've called. But again, she chose not to. She chose not to try to seek help for herself like she should have. She chose to give up; to quit trying. And _she does _bear at least _some _responsibility for that choice.

"And I'll tell you somethin' else. With all due respect to Cynthia, whatever it was that she was goin' through, I highly doubt that it can compare to getting abused by your own parents throughout your childhood from the age of two, enduring rape on a regular basis, putting your safety and life on the line on a regular basis to try and rescue kids from pedophile pimps, and bearing the responsibility of nearly a hundred kids' lives on your shoulders every single day, _and _having to go through all of that in secret. If anybody in the world has the right to get depressed and even suicidal, it's you. But no matter how bad your own personal pain is, you suck it up every single day and you keep goin', because you understand that life isn't all about you. You understand that it's about helping others and putting others ahead of yourself. I've had it a lot tougher than most kids here, and I always felt that everything I went through helped make me a strong person. But the truth is, I ain't got nothin' on you, Blair. I could never do what you do every day without losin' my mind." Jo then locked her eyes with Blair's and told her truthfully, "You're my hero, Blair."

Unable to hold it back any longer, Blair just broke down sobbing, and Jo didn't hesitate to take Blair into her arms in that moment. They'd already been friends – best friends, even – for some time now. But in that instant, a deeper, unspoken bond formed between the two of them. From that moment on, they weren't just friends; they were sisters.

"Promise me that if you ever get to feeling this low again, you'll talk to me," said Jo.

Unable to speak, Blair simply looked up at Jo and nodded through her tears.

"It's gonna be okay, Warner," Jo whispered as a small tear escaped from one of her own eyes. "It's gonna be okay."


	9. Parent Privilege

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Blair and Jo discuss Jo's feelings about Mr. Polniaczek coming back into her life; Blair confronts Mrs. Garrett about the way she handled Mr. Polniaczek's visit to Eastland.

**Chapter 9: Parent Privilege**

After Jo's award ceremony was over, a ceremony in which she received Eastland's Best New Student Award, she said goodbye to her dad. Then Blair pulled her aside and whispered in her ear that she wanted to meet with her in private in her "office" in Dorm Z before they went to bed that night, and Jo agreed.

As soon as they arrived and Blair locked the door behind them, she turned to Jo and told her, "I called you in here tonight because I wanted to apologize to you."

"Apologize for what?"

"For acting like I was siding with Mr. Polniaczek over you. For butting into your private business and trying to push you in his direction. I want to explain why I did what I did. Basically, I did what I did in order to keep up appearances, in case one of our Snoop Queens, a.k.a. Tootie or Natalie, just happened to be near our bedroom, listening in on private conversations."

"It certainly wouldn't be the first time either one of them has done that," Jo said knowingly.

"Agreed. Anyway, you know how it is. You know that it's essential that I stay in character no matter what. And unfortunately, butting into your personal business and using my own terrible luck with fathers to lay guilt trips on you is precisely what my character would do."

Understanding what Blair was saying, Jo gave Blair a kind nod, and she said, "Don't worry, Blair. I get it. I really do."

"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"You wanna know what happened between my dad and me after you left?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he said that he wanted to be my father again. I told him no thanks; that I'd already tried the whole father/daughter thing with him before and it ended with him runnin' out on me. He told me he wasn't gonna run out on me this time and he asked me to meet him halfway and give him another shot. I asked him why. He said, and I quote, 'Because I'm your father and I say so.' Then he said, 'And I happen to love you.' And…hearin' him tell me he loved me…I don't know…there was just somethin' about hearin' him say the words to me again after not hearin' 'em for so long, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I understand. If I were in your shoes, it would probably get to me too."

"So, against my better judgment, I caved. I gave in to all the pressure that Pop and Mrs. G. were puttin' on me–"

"And all the pressure I was putting on you," Blair said guiltily.

Jo shook her head and said, "No, Blair. I didn't feel pressured by you. Even before you called me in here and told me, I already knew that you were puttin' on your usual act. I know you too well by now to think that you would ever side with an absentee parent over a friend."

"A close friend," Blair said truthfully while holding Jo's gaze with her eyes, and Jo smiled.

"Right. A close friend. Anyway, like I was sayin', against my better judgment, I gave in to all the pressure that Pop and Mrs. G. were puttin' on me, and I decided to give him another chance. I just have to hope I don't get hurt again."

"I pray that you don't. Boy, I have to say that the way Mr. Polniaczek just childishly demanded his way back into your life with that, 'Because I'm your father and I say so' line, really steams me. And it also steams me the way that Mrs. Garrett basically sided with Mr. Polniaczek over you and put so much pressure on you to accept him back in your life before you felt you were ready to. I've poured my heart out to Mrs. Garrett so many times in my letters to her as 'Ariah.' I don't know how many times I've told her about how deeply it's hurt me whenever I would open up to an adult about some of the things I've been through and I wasn't respected and I wasn't taken seriously because my age wasn't a high enough number. The very reason why child abuse and abortion and child trafficking and child prostitution rings even exist in the first place is because of humanity's overwhelming tendency to have prejudice in their hearts against young people; to think of those of us with a low-numbered age as objects instead of people, or at the very least, as people with less value. Prejudice is the very reason why white people were able to get away with enslaving black people for so long in this country. And once again, it's prejudice that's enabling the slavery and abuse of another group of people in this country: children. And when Mrs. Garrett pressures you to accept your absentee father back into your life before you feel ready to, without showing an ounce of respect for you and all the pain you've already been through, she's showing her own personal prejudice against young people. And it really, _really _hurts to see that kind of prejudice coming from Mrs. Garrett, especially after everything I said to her in my letters."

"I do wish Mrs. G. would've just left me alone and let me handle all of this my own way," Jo admitted. "But I don't think she means to act out of prejudice, Blair. I think she really does mean well."

"I'll bet Job's friends 'meant well,' too. But their good intentions don't justify the way they added to Job's already tremendous pain. I love Mrs. Garrett, but she is flat out _wrong _to push you into giving Mr. Polniaczek another chance if you don't want to. If _you wanted _to take the risk of your father abandoning you again, that would be your right. But it shouldn't be shoved down your throat like this, just because Mr. Polniaczek 'is your father and he says so.' I've been there, Jo. I know just how unbearable the pain is of getting abandoned by a parent. As you know, I was horribly abused by my DNA donors, and abuse and abandonment go hand in hand. They're two sides of the same coin. And _no _young person should be forced or bullied by the adults around her into risking another round of abandonment by an absentee parent if it's not a chance that she personally wants to take. This should be _your _choice, _not _Mrs. Garrett's or Mr. Polniaczek's. Just as there has been a long history of things like male privilege and white privilege, there _is _also such a thing as _parent privilege._ Whenever a child offends or disrespects a parent, that child will automatically be punished for it. But if, particularly in Christian circles, a parent abuses or neglects or abandons a child, and if a child _rightly _vents and complains about it to another adult, that child will most likely get the Fifth Commandment shoved in her face. _That's parent privilege. _And if that abusive or neglectful or absentee parent wants to demand his way back into his child's life just because he says so, without having to respect the child he hurt and her personal boundaries, ninety-nine percent of the time, he'll only be enabled by all the adults around him, just as Mr. Polniaczek was enabled by Mrs. Garrett tonight. _That's parent privilege._ And parent privilege just kills me and makes me so sick inside."

"I know. Me too. I don't know. My feelings are just so mixed up right now. I know that when it comes to my dad, I was bein' pretty stubborn. I know that he's been workin' hard on changin' his life. My head says that meeting him halfway by giving him another chance is the least I can do. But my heart says that this was the stupidest thing I ever couldda done; that he's just gonna hurt me and betray me all over again. I don't think I'll be able to take it if he does."

"I've been there, Jo. I know exactly how you feel. There was a time when I was a small child that I would've done anything to have my DNA donors change their ways and start loving me and start truly being parents to me. I gave them a number of chances. I so hope things work out better for you and Mr. Polniaczek than they did for me and my DNA donors. And I'm so sorry that you were basically forced and manipulated into giving him another chance before you truly felt ready to risk it; that Mrs. Garrett and Mr. Polniaczek just could not bring themselves to respect your boundaries because of their own prejudice against young people. Whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm always here for you, day or night."

"I do know that, Blair. And I appreciate it. More than you know."

Jo then gave Blair a big hug, and afterwards, Blair unlocked the door and relocked it after she and Jo walked out of the storage room. Then she and Jo headed back to the cafeteria together.

* * *

The following Saturday afternoon, Blair took Mrs. Garrett out to eat at a new drive-in place that had just opened up in downtown Peekskill. Once they were done eating, Blair took the opportunity to have a private conversation with Mrs. Garrett and get some things off her chest.

"Mrs. Garrett, the last thing I want to do is start an argument with you. But I have to say that I was really upset by the way you handled things with Jo and Mr. Polniaczek when Mr. Polniaczek came to Eastland for Jo's award ceremony a few days ago. I realize I wrong to do this, but I eavesdropped on your conversation with Mr. Polniaczek. I heard how you told him that he had been through a lot and Jo was giving him a rough time. It almost sounded as though you were taking his side over Jo's. How could you take the side of a parent who abandons his own child over the side of the child that he hurt? How could you feel sorry for him after all that he put Jo through? I know how it feels to get abandoned by your own parents, Mrs. Garrett, and I promise you, there's nothing Charlie Polniaczek could have possibly gone through in prison that could begin to compare to the pain of getting abandoned and rejected by one of your own parents."

"You're absolutely right, Blair. I was very blessed. I was able to grow up in the love and security of _both _of my parents, and I for one can't imagine how Jo must have suffered all these years after getting abandoned by her own father. I know that what Mr. Polniaczek did to Jo all these years was inexcusable. I realize that in my conversation with Mr. Polniaczek, it may have sounded like I was feeling sorry for him and taking his side over Jo's, but I was actually taking Jo's side over his. Blair, if I had read Mr. Polniaczek the riot act and ripped into him that night, he wouldn't have listened to a word I had to say. He would've just tuned me out and run as far away from Eastland, from me, and from Jo as he could get. I had to appear sympathetic to him so that he would be willing to listen to me; so that I could convince him to stay."

"That brings me to another point I wanted to discuss with you today. Most of the time, I really appreciate it when you butt into my private life and give me advice. It shows how much you care. And I know the girls appreciate it too. But there does come a time when we really do need you to respect our personal boundaries. With all due respect, it really wasn't your place to force Jo to accept Mr. Polniaczek back into her life, nor was it your place to force Mr. Polniaczek in Jo's direction. _Jo _should have been the one to decide if and when she was ready to take such a big risk with her overall emotional and psychological well-being. _It should not _have been shoved down her throat by you and Mr. Polniaczek like it was. Mr. Polniaczek should have had to accept the consequences of his decision to abandon his daughter, just as we kids have to accept the consequences of our bad choices by accepting whatever punishment our parents give us. And part of the consequences of his choice to abandon his daughter means that he has to wait, even if it's five, ten, or twenty years, until Jo feels ready to take the risk of trying to have a relationship with him; it means that he lost any right to demand anything from her. When you butted into Jo's personal business and forced her and Mr. Polniaczek back together again, you need to realize that you took a huge gamble with Jo's overall well-being. If Mr. Polniaczek betrays Jo's trust a second time around, it's going to kill her spirit. And if that happens, _you _will be to blame for it. _You _took this gamble, Mrs. Garrett, and if it backfires, it won't be you who suffers. _Jo _will be the one who will suffer, _immensely_, and _she will suffer because of you._"

"I hear what you're saying, Blair. And I am _not _trying to gamble or play games with Jo's well-being. It's just that Mr. Polniaczek is an impatient and impulsive man, much like his daughter, and if I hadn't pressed him the way I did that night, he wouldn't have waited five, ten, or twenty years for Jo to finally give him a second chance. He was so discouraged and confused that I really do believe he would've given up on Jo completely because he didn't know what else to do. And after all that he put Jo through, I couldn't just stand by and do nothing and let him get away with trying to take the easy way out. I just _had _to hold his feet to the fire and make him _finally _start accepting the responsibility of being Jo's father. I couldn't bear the thought of him being allowed to run away from his daughter a second time around just because things had gotten difficult between them. I know that I butted into a private family issue, but I only did what I did because I want to see Mr. Polniaczek start accepting responsibility for what he's done to Jo. I want to see him start being there for her and start healing the wounds he caused her. Had I not done what I did, he would've left Eastland that night and just gotten off scot-free, living his own life as he pleased, without having to accept an ounce of responsibility for his daughter like a father should."

After a few silent moments, Blair nodded and said, "I think I understand. But I still say that you've taken a big, careless gamble with Jo's heart. Mr. Polniaczek may have paid his dues to society for his crimes in prison, but still, he isn't exactly what I'd call a reliable man. There's still a good chance that he'll bail out on Jo the next time he hits a bump in the road with her."

Mrs. Garrett shook her head then and said, "Blair, he's been working for years to change his life while in prison. I know a changed person when I see one. All my life, I've always gone with my gut instinct, and in this case, my gut instinct tells me that Mr. Polniaczek really will be there for Jo this time. I don't believe for a minute that he'll ever do anything to hurt Jo like this again. I'm convinced that he really has learned his lesson."

"For Jo's sake, I hope you're right. Because if you're wrong, it won't be _you _who will suffer the consequences of _your _gamble. _Jo _will be the one suffering and paying the price for it. And you need to be aware of that."

"I am aware of it, Blair," Mrs. Garrett said softly. "But I truly do not believe that that is going to happen. I care about Jo very deeply, and I would _never, ever _do anything that I thought would harm her in any way."

"I know that," Blair admitted.

After a brief pause, Mrs. Garrett looked over at Blair with a small twinkle in her eyes and said, "You know, you do seem to be mighty concerned about someone you've often declared to be a mere 'grungy grease monkey' and 'an uncouth barbarian.'"

"Just because I can empathize with Jo, it doesn't mean I like her," Blair said in a huff.

"Mm-hmm," Mrs. Garrett said knowingly, not buying it for a minute.

They then exchanged a smile, and afterwards, Blair drove them home.


	10. Consequences

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Ariah rescues a fourteen-year-old girl from child pornography and sexual slavery.

**Chapter 10: Consequences**

Teresa Whiteside James did everything she was supposed to do when she was growing up in her small hometown in Ohio. She believed in God. She said her prayers every night before she went to bed. She went to church. She got straight As in school. She obeyed her parents. And when she married her high school sweetheart, Peter James, three weeks after graduating high school, she really was certain that her life was going to be everything she always dreamed of. At the time, she was young, wide-eyed, and full of hope for the future. She'd always dreamed of finding her Prince Charming, getting married, having a houseful of kids, and living happily ever after, and when the brown-haired, blue-eyed, eighteen-year-old beauty got married to the tall, blonde, handsome Peter, she was absolutely certain that was how her life was going to work out. Sadly, she couldn't have been more wrong.

When they'd been dating throughout their high school years, Peter had been every girl's dream. He'd been the captain of the football team, the big man on campus, and everybody flocked around him. Teresa felt so lucky that out of all the girls in her school, he had chosen her. He wasn't the sharpest kid in the classroom, but he was charismatic and charming and friendly and funny. During their high school years, he'd been an utter joy to be with for the most part, with the exception of his fiery temper that flared occasionally and sometimes frightened people (including Teresa). In the first four months of their marriage, Peter worked for his dad at his dad's hardware store while housewife Teresa stayed at home, taking care of their tiny apartment, and during that time, it was heaven for the most part. Peter's infamous temper flared up a couple of times and they'd had some shouting matches, but all in all, it was a very happy time for the newlyweds. But four months into their young marriage, Teresa learned that she was pregnant, and that changed everything.

Although Peter was fun and charming and a very nice guy on the surface, it was no secret that he had his issues with narcissism. Peter just _had _to be the center of attention _all the time. _He simply _could not bear _for the spotlight to be on anybody other than him for two seconds. So the very instant that Peter James learned that his wife was two months pregnant – that his wife and unborn baby were going to be the center of everybody else's attention for the next seven months – he went ballistic. This marked a sudden, sharp turning point in their young marriage. It was from this point forward that the honeymoon phase of their marriage was officially over.

As soon as Teresa told Peter she was pregnant, he slapped her. It was the first time ever in their relationship that he physically abused her, but it would not be the last. Over the next several months, Peter subjected Teresa to relentless verbal and emotional abuse, and there were a number of times that he hit her. One unforgettable snowy afternoon in late November, Teresa went home to visit her parents and ask for their help. She was six months pregnant – and she had a big black eye.

For two hours, Teresa poured her heart out to her mother, Martha Whiteside, and begged for her to help her. Martha's own husband, Fred, also had quite the explosive temper, and she felt very bad for own young daughter.

"Oh baby, I wish I knew what to tell you," said Martha as she dried Teresa's tears with a tissue. "Sometimes…sometimes men just have an angry, violent streak in 'em and their tempers barrel through your life like a tornado. In times like that…you just have to batten down the hatches and hang in there 'til the storm blows over, you know? Like we have to do with your daddy sometimes when he gets angry."

"Mama, why do you stay? Why do you put up with the terrible way Daddy treats you?"

"Oh honey, it isn't all bad all the time. I've always known that way down underneath, your father really does care about us. It's just not always easy for him to show it. He's always been a tough man. It's just not his way to openly express affection."

"It sure is his way to openly express anger, hostility, and abuse, though."

"Teresa, you are talking about your father and when you are sitting underneath his roof, _you will _remember the ten commandments and give him the respect that he's due."

"So honoring your mother and father means covering it up when they abuse their families and sweeping it under the rug and never saying a word about it? Honoring your mother and father means tolerating their abuse of you and others and never taking a stand against it? Honoring your mother and father means that a parent can abuse you and your other family members and you have to cover up their sin and protect them from the consequences of their evil behavior while nobody protects _you_ from their abuse? Honoring your mother and father means that children are some kind of second-class citizens?"

Martha Whiteside let out a long sigh of frustration and she massaged her temple for several long moments. Finally, she told her daughter, "Teresa, I know that your daddy has caused you pain throughout the years, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you from all of it. I'm not saying that the way he treated you is right. But for all his faults, your daddy _did _put a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and clothes on your back for eighteen years, and for that reason, you do owe him at least some respect. And it's for that same reason that you also owe your husband respect, even if he doesn't always treat you as kindly as you would like him to."

"Being the breadwinner _does not _give a man the right to abuse his wife and children, Mama!" Teresa exclaimed through her tears.

"I know it doesn't, baby. I know it doesn't. I know it's a bad situation. And I know it's not fair. But as women, this kind of thing is often our lot in life. Teresa, honey, you've gone your whole life thinking that you're Cinderella and that you're going to end up with your Prince Charming and live happily ever after. But you're not a little girl anymore. Now, you're a grown, married woman with a baby on the way, and it's time to start moving beyond childish fantasies. Marriage isn't always fun and games. Often there's a lot of pain and heartache involved. That's just life. But no matter how hard the road gets, it's just a cold hard fact of life that marriage is a lifelong commitment. Bailing out is never an option. Not in this family. You stood before the Almighty God eight months ago and gave Him your solemn promise that you would love, honor, and obey your husband every day for the rest of your life. You didn't promise the Lord that you would only do those things for him when it was easy. Yes, it's painful. Yes, it's frightening. Yes, it's difficult. But it's what you signed on for the day that you married Peter. And no matter how hard it is or how much it hurts, you have to stick with it. You have to stay true to your word, like a real woman of God."

"Yes, Mama," Teresa whispered with a broken sigh.

Martha then pulled Teresa into her arms, gave her a long hug, and kissed her cheek. She then told her, "Now go home and love your husband."

"Yes, Mama," Teresa said quietly. Then after saying a quick goodbye to her mother, Teresa went back home, and she spent the next thirteen years loving, honoring, obeying, and submitting to her abusive husband like her mother told her to. But then one day, Martha Whiteside's whole world came crashing down when she came over to visit Teresa and her thirteen-year-old granddaughter, Hope, and she found Teresa lying on her kitchen floor in a pool of blood…dead.

* * *

Hope Allyson James witnessed far more in her young life than any thirteen-year-old ever should. It was not an uncommon thing for her to sit in a corner, terrified, and watch her "father" beat her mother senseless. She was constantly petrified of him, and she never could understand why her mother never would just take her and leave. She often felt that if her mother truly cared about her well-being, she would have done that ages ago. But as always, she came in second to a narcissistic abuser. She didn't know what it was about her that made her so worthless that her own mother would choose an abuser over her; she only knew that it hurt like the fires of hell. Her mother always claimed to love her so much, but Hope learned early on in her life that talk was cheap, and that so-called "love" was pretty worthless in the end if it was only words and no actions to back it up.

Teresa and Hope endured years of heartbreaking abuse at Peter's hands. Teresa endured constant physical, verbal, and emotional abuse and many episodes of marital rape, but it wasn't just Teresa who was abused. Hope was also raped by her father multiple times over the years. Then on one unforgettable day in August, Hope woke up at a quarter 'til six one morning and discovered Teresa lying on the kitchen floor. She felt for a pulse but there was none, and when she touched Teresa's body, she felt that it was cold and stiff. She knew it was far too late to do anything for Teresa by now. Hope then searched the apartment, but Peter was nowhere to be found. As soon as Hope realized that she was all alone, she knew that the time had come for her to run away. Hope had been thinking about this in the back of her mind for quite some time, and she had long since decided that if the opportunity ever came for her to get away from her rapist, abusive "father" and enabling "mother," she would take full advantage of it, and this was it. Hope quickly packed a suitcase for herself, found where Teresa kept money she was hiding from Peter, walked out to the nearest highway, and hitched a ride to Manhattan.

* * *

Famed fashion photographer Jonathan Dutton first picked up Hope when she was hitchhiking once again on the streets of New York City. She was a strikingly beautiful young girl, and he instantly noticed that, and it wasn't long before he started using her in many of his photo shoots. Unfortunately, in order to get anywhere in that business, it was basically a requirement that she had to sleep with Jonathan and a number of his buddies and colleagues on demand. She also had to start going by the name Rena, the stage name Jonathan had given her. As tragic as it was, in the end, Hope James had lost everything. Her family. Her autonomy. The independence she'd always craved for. The freedom from sexual abuse she had sought for herself. Even her own name. And most of the time, Jonathan kept her so badly drugged that any mere thought of escape was impossible.

But then one day, when Jonathan was searching for a new face for his campaign to sell a new kind of perfume, he brought a very pretty twelve-year-old black girl named Tootie Ramsey into his photography studio, along with her nutritionist and chaperone, Mrs. Edna Garrett, and her "fashion coordinator," Blair Warner. Although Hope had felt betrayed by the Lord for a long time and had sworn she'd never speak to Him again, when Tootie came into the studio, she silently prayed that day that Mrs. Garrett would get her the heck out of there and that they would never come back. And mercifully, that's exactly what happened. As soon as Edna Garrett learned that Jonathan Dutton was basically participating in child pornography, she gave him a piece of her mind and got her girls out of there, like a responsible adult and guardian was _supposed _to do. Like a _parent _was supposed to do. She was both happy for Tootie and jealous of her at the same time. It hurt _so badly _that _she _never had anybody to intervene on _her_ behalf and save _her _from sexual abuse. Martha wouldn't listen to her and she wouldn't even allow her to talk about it when she tried to open up to her about what was happening to her, and of course, there was no way Teresa would even _consider _trying to leave Peter, not even for the sake of her continually raped child. Nobody, _nobody_, _ever_ stood up for _her _and gave two craps about _her._ And whenever she tried to express hurt and anger at the way Martha and Teresa had constantly enabled Peter over the years to any other adult, she was just shut down and told not to speak disparagingly about her mother and grandmother. And of course, she got the Fifth Commandment shoved down her throat a number of times as well.

It was for that reason that Hope _hated _Christianity with all she had in her. Sure, professing Christians put up a big fuss about fighting for the rights of unborn children, but it seemed that the instant a child came into the world, from that point on, that child became a nonperson in the eyes of the church. They fought to put a stop to babies being viciously suctioned apart limb from limb inside the womb, and rightfully so, but after a child was born, they had no problems whatsoever sweeping the most heinous forms of child abuse under the rug. Just as multitudes of professing Christian, Southern white plantation owners participated in the most heinous forms of abuse against black people and enabled that abuse and turned a blind eye to it in America's earlier days as a country because of their prejudice against blacks, today, multitudes of professing Christian churchgoers also participated in and enabled and turned a blind eye to all kinds of child abuse because of their prejudice against young people. It was tragic, but quite understandable, that after experiences like hers, Hope wanted absolutely no part of Christianity whatsoever. And after all the years of her grandmother's abuse enabling, she wanted nothing to do with Martha, either. Thankfully, the time finally did come when Hope was able to say goodbye to abuse and abuse enabling for good.

Two days after she'd met Tootie and her "fashion coordinator," the FBI broke into Jonathan Dutton's private residence in New York City, and all of his models, a.k.a. sex slaves, were rescued – including Hope. Many of the girls were set up at Eastland by a young woman named Ariah, whom Hope had heard of a number of times before. When Hope finally met Ariah face to face three days after the FBI raid, she was quite shocked to learn her actually identity. She couldn't believe that Ariah was actually Tootie's stuck-up "fashion coordinator."

"Yes, I'm never what people expect," Blair admitted as they walked through the big lounge of Dorm Z, where Hope had been temporarily staying. (She had never set foot out of the dorm ever since she arrived, and Mrs. Garrett and the girls had no clue she was there.)

"I don't know how you did it, but I do know that you had a hand in all of this somehow, and I'm so glad you did whatever it was that you did," Hope told her.

"I have a couple of contacts in very high places in the FBI," Blair explained. "When I came to Jonathan Dutton's studio with Tootie and Mrs. Garrett a few days ago and we found out what was really going on behind the scenes with his borderline child pornography, I called up my friends and asked them to do a thorough investigation. And they uncovered the truth about him owning child sex slaves."

"Thank you. I never thought I'd be free of him in a million years."

"Well you are free of him now, and you'll never have to worry about him again."

"So what's going to happen to me now? I mean, no offense. Eastland seems like a wonderful place, but after everything I've been through, I'm just not ready for Normal Teenage Life. Not yet anyway."

"I can understand why that would be too much, too soon. One of my FBI buddies has a beach-house in the tropics. I could send you there with a private tutor. You can catch up on all the schoolwork you've missed while you're taking a break from the world and getting your bearings again. Or if you'd prefer, I can see to it that you're sent back home to your family."

"No way! The only so-called 'family' I have is an abusive grandfather and a 'Christian' grandmother who kept telling my mother to stay with my abusive dad and keep submitting to him. My mom's dead now because she listened to her."

"That is so very horrible, and I'm so sorry that happened to you. It's not surprising, though. So many people wear the label of 'Christian,' yet they are literally the worst abuse enablers on the planet. As a Christian myself, it makes me sick."

"I never want to see that terrible woman again. Not after what she put my mom and me through by supporting our abuser all these years."

"I don't blame you. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't ever want to see her again either."

"I suppose I should feel guilty for being this way. After all, she is my grandmother. But then again, I lost my whole childhood and my mother because my grandmother wouldn't do anything to help us get away from my abusive dad. After that, I honestly don't believe I owe her anything. Not after all the destruction she's responsible for in my life."

"I agree. I don't think you owe her anything either. Whenever children do something wrong, they have to face consequences for it. They're punished in some way by their parents. But whenever parents or grandparents wrong their children or grandchildren, they rarely, if ever, have to face any consequences at all. That isn't right. Your grandmother tossed you and your mother under the bus for the sake of an abuser. There should be consequences for that, and there will be. And those consequences are that she no longer gets to have the privilege of having you in her life."

"I don't know what to say. You're really saving my life...again! Thank you so much."

Blair smiled, pulled Hope into her arms, and gave her a big hug. And Blair stayed true to her word. She quickly got in touch with her friend at the FBI and made arrangements for Hope to move into his beach-house, along with a counselor and a tutor Blair hired especially for her. Thanks to the legal strings Blair pulled, Hope's name was changed and she was quickly declared a ward of Mrs. Gordon, the housemother of Dorm Z, and she would remain as such at least until she turned sixteen. Then, if she wanted the option, Blair would help her file for legal emancipation. That was for the future, though. For right now, Hope was thrilled to simply be alive and to simply have the option to _not _have abusers _or _abuse-enablers in her life. As furious as she was at God, she couldn't thank Him enough for that.


	11. Blue Bracelets

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Jo talks with Blair about her strange decision to bring alcohol to the Eastland campus.

**Chapter 11: Blue Bracelets**

"_Jiejie_, what in the world is goin' on with you right now?" Jo asked Blair after she practically dragged her into the storage room of Dorm Z where they could talk alone. For months now, Jo had been privately calling Blair "_jiejie_" and Blair had been calling Jo "_meimei_" because _jiejie _was Chinese for the phrase "older sister" and _meimei _was Chinese for "younger sister." They always used those terms of endearment for one another whenever they were talking to each other in private, and especially in times like these when something was clearly very wrong. After returning from summer vacation, Blair had brought two bottles of wine back to school with her and had decided to throw a little party, but she tried to exclude Tootie from it because she felt that Tootie was too young to be drinking. The results had been disastrous. Tootie had felt hurt and angry about being left out of their party, so she retaliated by stealing one of Blair's bottles of wine and drinking it all. Consequently, all four of the girls had come within an inch of getting expelled. "This is so unlike you," Jo continued. "Doin' somethin' dumb and reckless and crazy like sneakin' booze on campus is somethin' _I _might do occasionally, but not you. That's not you at all."

"I know, _meimei_," Blair responded with a very tired sigh. "I know. I know that bringing that wine on campus was the dumbest, most irresponsible thing I've ever done. You're right. It was terribly stupid of me. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess…"

"You guess what?"

"I guess I just wanted to get away from this whole painful, exhausting mess for a while and just be a regular teenager for once in my life. I guess I was hoping that if I could do something fun and stupid and crazy, like throwing a party and hanging out with my friends and getting drunk with my friends, it might make me feel just a little bit better inside for just a little while. I realize now how stupid I was. I almost got poor Tootie expelled tonight. I feel horrible about that."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, _jiejie_," Jo said kindly. "If I was constantly livin' in the kind of secret hell you have to deal with every day, I would've done a lot worse. I would've cracked under the strain a long time ago. I don't know how you do it every day. And besides, it was your quick thinking in the end that saved Tootie's neck. Well, that brilliant idea of yours saved all four of our necks, really. It was very clever of you to get Mrs. G. to punish us instead of her goin' to Mr. Parker about it."

"Yeah," Blair sighed as tears started filling her eyes unexpectedly.

"_Jiejie_, what is it?" Jo asked softly after putting a loving hand on Blair's upper arm.

Ordinarily, Blair would've quickly wiped her eyes and regained her composure, but now, she didn't even try to stop the tears. She just stood there in front of Jo and allowed them to flow freely from her eyes. After allowing herself to openly cry for several long minutes, Blair finally wiped her eyes and said to Jo, "I was pregnant."

"What?" Jo gasped, unable to believe her ears.

"I didn't tell you. I didn't tell anybody. But you remember a few months back when Horace Blackwell got in touch with me and asked me to meet with him and I did?"

"Of course I do."

"I was distracted. I had so many other things on my mind at the time and I forgot to take my birth control pill like I usually do, and when I met with him that night, I…I got pregnant from our encounter. I was two months pregnant when we left for the summer break."

"I can't believe it," Jo said quietly, astonished at Blair's disturbing revelation.

"I made up my mind then that I was going to stop doing all of this; that I wasn't going to try to implement Operation Omega later on; that I wasn't going to risk my life to meet with pimps anymore; that all my days of being a hero were officially done. I was going to stop everything and leave Eastland, my parents, all of it, and buy my own house somewhere on the other side of the globe and just focus on taking care of my baby. I was going to go into hiding with my baby, do everything I could to protect him, and just be a mom. For the first time in my life, I was going to put everything aside and just be a regular, everyday person like everybody else on the planet. I was going to write to you and Mrs. Garrett, explaining why I was never coming back to Eastland, and I was going to try to start preparing myself to be the best mommy on the planet. Those _were _my plans…up until two weeks ago, that is."

"What happened?"

"I was with Monica and Geri's mom at Monica's house just outside of Paris. I was getting all my ducks in a row. I was going to get in touch with my friend at the FBI the next day. You know, the guy who handles all my finances for me and is in charge of my Swiss bank account."

"Right."

"I was going to talk to him, ask him to get into my account for me and take out all the money I would need for everything. But I never had a chance to do that. Two weeks ago, everybody had decided to go to Paris for an extended shopping spree for the next couple of days, but I stayed home because I wasn't feeling well. Shortly after they left, I started getting the most awful cramps in my abdomen. It was literally the worst pain I'd ever felt. I passed out on the bed in my room and I woke up a couple of hours later in a great big pool of blood."

"Oh God," Jo gasped as she pulled Blair into her arms and started crying with her. "I wish I knew what to say. I'm sorry, _jiejie_. I am so, so sorry," she whispered in her ear while holding her as tightly as she could. "I can't imagine how much you must be hurting right now. I'd give anything if I could take your pain for you. You already go through so much pain all the time. This is so unfair."

"My baby died, _meimei_," Blair gasped through her tears, clinging to Jo like a life raft in the middle of a raging river. "My baby died. I wish it had been me who died."

"I'm so sorry, _jiejie_. I am so, so, so sorry. I just feel so helpless right now. I just wish that there was something, _anything_ that I could do to make it all better."

"I'm in so much pain right now," Blair admitted. "And I'm angry. I'm so angry."

"I'm angry for you."

"It's my faith in Jesus that has helped me hold onto my sanity up to this point, but now, I'm so mad at God, I can barely see straight. How could He stab me in the back like this? How could He betray me by allowing this to happen? Haven't I been through enough? Haven't I suffered enough for one lifetime? For ten lifetimes?"

"You've already suffered way too much, Blair. And I don't know why. I don't know why, out of all the billions of people on this planet, you're the one who has to go through so much agony. You're the most incredible person I ever met, and I don't know why so many horrific things have happened to you. You've done nothing to deserve losing your baby or getting raped or any of the other awful things that have been happening to you from day one. I do know that God has nothing to do with them. I know it's hard to see it right now, but Jesus really does love you, Blair. And I know that somehow, in some way, God _is _going to make all of these terrible things work out for good because you love Him and you've been called according to His purpose, which is to conform you into the image of Jesus, like the Bible says. Maybe it won't be turned into good today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday, when we're with Him, it'll all make sense, and everything _will _be put right again. We just have to keep holding on and keep doing the best we can with each day we're given until then."

"I don't know if I can."

"You can. I know the pain is awful right now, but _you can _get through it, and I'll be right here to help you. I know it's hard to believe this right now, but this horrific pain won't last forever. There will come a time when it won't hurt quite as bad as it does now."

Their long embrace finally ended, and Blair then said to Jo, "Well right now, I'll just have to take your word for it."

"It's gonna be alright, _jiejie_. We're gonna get through this. I don't know how, yet, but we are gonna get through this thing. I promise you."

"The journey just gets so long, you know? And I'm so tired. I am so sick and tired of having to have sex with that sickening old pervert just so he'll do the right thing and release a child from Hell City. _He should _do that anyway without me having to…you know."

"I know, _jiejie_. I know."

"And I'm so tired of having to convince the people I love the most that I'm nothing but a selfish, spoiled, arrogant fool without a conscience. It hurts so much knowing that Mrs. Garrett and Natalie and Tootie all think I'm such a vain idiot. I know that's what most people at Eastland believe and I don't really care about everybody else, but I do care that that's how Mrs. Garrett and the girls see me. They're my family."

"I know. I know it's hard. Unbelievably hard. And I know it hurts. I know. But you just have to keep hanging in there because there _will _come a time when everybody is going to know everything. There _will _come a time when Mrs. G. and the girls and everybody at Eastland will know about everything you have gone through and all the lives you've saved, and they will be just as amazed by you as I am every day."

"Maybe, Jo. Maybe. I don't know. All I know right know is that I am heartbroken and miserable and that I would give anything to be able to get away from this cruel, stupid life on earth and go to heaven where I can be with my son."

After a long pause, Jo asked, "You knew you were having a boy?"

"I wasn't told the baby's gender by a doctor or anything. It was just a very strong feeling I had. Somehow, I just knew the whole time that I was carrying a little boy. And I want to be with him, Jo. I don't want to be here."

"I know. I know that what you're going through right now is so unbelievably cruel and I would give anything if I could lessen the pain somehow. But even though it is so hard and painful and unfair, you have to hang in there and keep going because we need you. We all need you so much here at Dorm Z. And there are so many children out there who are still trapped, still in bondage, and they need you too. I know you're in so much pain right now, but don't quit, Blair. Don't give up. One day, somehow, all of this misery will be worth it."

After a long pause, Blair said, "Thank you, Jo. I know you're right. After I met with Blackwell that night, he released a twelve-year-old boy from Hell City. I've got him all set up at Bates Academy now. I know I did the right thing by helping that little boy, but I'm still so angry that I've lost mine."

"I know," Jo whispered.

Blair cried silently for the next few minutes. Finally, she wiped her eyes and said, "I know you're right, Jo. I know that there are a lot of people who still need me and I know I have to keep going no matter how hard it is. I know that our movement here at Eastland, our fight against child trafficking, is bigger and more important than any one person. It's certainly more important than me and my problems. I know that. This whole thing is just so crazy. I just can't get over the insanity of it all. I've done such dumb things, all for the sake of appearances. Throughout all of this, I've pulled some very stupid stunts in order to keep up my act in front of everyone. During Mrs. Garrett's first year at Eastland when I was fifteen, there was this delivery boy I was dating, and he really was a hunk. I just threw myself at him and I even tried to get him to sleep with me, not because I actually _wanted _to do something like that, but because it was the kind of behavior everyone around me expected. It was the character I was playing. Later on that same year, I even got involved with this dumb clique in which all the girls were secretly smoking pot. I even got Sue Ann mixed up in that mess and she actually smoked some, all because she wanted to look cool to those idiotic girls – all of whom got their butts expelled for their stupidity, I might add. But even though I have done some painfully stupid things in the past for the sake of maintaining my spoiled, boy-crazy, rich girl persona in front of everyone, there is no excuse for my behavior tonight. My little stunt could have gotten me expelled; it could have even brought an end to our movement here against child trafficking. Like I just said, this movement is bigger and more important than one person. It's bigger and more important than I am, and I lost sight of that and I started thinking about me and me alone. Just one silly, stupid mistake on my part could have destroyed all our work here."

"Don't beat up on yourself like that, _jiejie_. It's true that sneaking two bottles of French wine onto the Eastland campus wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do, but you can't get everything right all the time, no matter how much you may want to. You're an extraordinary person, but no matter how amazing you are, you're still human. You just made a mistake – _a perfectly understandable _mistake that _anyone _would have probably made in your shoes."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Blair sighed, and then more tears unexpectedly filled her eyes.

Jo then pulled Blair into her embrace and whispered, "It's gonna be alright, _jiejie_. We're gonna get through this. It's gonna be okay."

* * *

Two days later, Blair came to the lounge of Dorm Z just before she and the girls were supposed to get started helping Mrs. Garrett prepare breakfast, because Mrs. Gordon had asked to meet with her. Mrs. Gordon was a tall, slim, blonde-haired lady in her fifties with kind brown eyes, and this morning, Blair felt even more love radiating from them than usual.

"You wanted to see me, Mrs. Gordon?" said Blair after the two of them had sat down on the couch together.

"Yes, Blair."

"Is anything wrong with one of the students?"

"Oh, no. Everything's just fine. However, a number of students, here at Eastland and at Bates, have expressed concern about you. Your recent behavior–"

"I understand, Mrs. Gordon. I know that when I recently brought alcohol onto the Eastland campus, I did an incredibly stupid thing, but none of you need to worry. I've been going through some personal issues and it temporarily clouded my judgment, but everything is under control now. I assure you, I'll never do anything stupid like that again."

"That isn't what I mean, sweetie. We're not concerned about the quality of your performance."

"Meaning the theatrical performance I always have to give in order to keep all of this a secret, or the performance of my duties to all of you?"

"Both. As I was saying, we're not concerned about your performance. We're concerned about _you_. You are under constant, unrelenting pressure and stress. You continually go through things that would psychologically cripple most of us. I can't even begin to imagine how hard all of this must be. A number of students have come to me recently and expressed similar concerns. We're all very worried about you. And you should know that one of the students who came to me…is Jo."

"Jo?" Blair said in disbelief.

"Yes. We sat down in here yesterday and had a very long talk. She…she told me about everything that happened to you over the summer break."

"_She did what?!_" Blair cried out in fury as she rose to her feet.

Mrs. Gordon stood as well, and then she explained, "Jo came to me because she was worried about you. She's deeply concerned that this is too much for you to continue to go through on your own. We all share that concern. Whenever our friend at the FBI has tried to arrange for you to have professional counseling in the past, you've always resisted. But now, we're putting our foot down about this. He's hired a counselor to come here to Dorm Z once a week. You'll meet with her every Monday afternoon at four o'clock."

"I'm going to kill Jo!"

"Jo was only trying to act in your best interests, just like we all are. I've spoken with Mrs. Garrett and I told her that I needed you over here in Dorm Z today and she's agreed to give you the day off. And the reason for that is because all the students here and at Bates whom you've saved…there's something very special that they want to do for you today."

Mrs. Gordon then called out for everyone to come downstairs, and once all the students of Dorm Z, as well as all the Bates boys whom Blair had rescued, came down the stairs and into the lounge, Blair noticed that they were all wearing blue bracelets.

As soon as Terry Baker noticed that Blair was looking at their bracelets, she explained, "They're for your son. We know that you lost your little boy during the summer break, and we're all wearing blue bracelets today to honor both you and him."

"Thank you," Blair said quietly, barely suppressing her rage. She was absolutely furious that Mrs. Gordon and all her charges at both Eastland and Bates now knew all about her business. Her _deeply private _business that nobody else had a right to know. Blair made a mental note to _never, ever _trust Jo with anything again as long as she lived.

However, as the day progressed, Blair's attitude began to change. Mrs. Gordon asked Blair to sit down and after she did, one by one, all the students came up to her and read aloud letters they'd written to her, explaining everything they'd gone through and how she had rescued them and changed their lives for the better, and thanking her for everything she'd done for them. They all showered her with incredible love and support and gratitude for how she had transformed their lives. What moved Blair the most was when a twelve-year-old black boy from Bates named Matthew Collins read his letter to Blair. He was the boy she had gotten released from Hell City after enduring a night of rape at the hands of Horace Blackwell, and hearing his story went a long way in easing some of her agony. It certainly didn't make all of her pain go away, but it did make it easier knowing that something truly wonderful had come out of all her suffering.

When everyone was done reading their letters to Blair and she returned to the Eastland cafeteria later on that afternoon, she was in a much better frame of mind, and she had forgiven Jo for divulging her personal secrets to Mrs. Gordon. She still wasn't very happy about what Jo did, but she also knew that Jo only did it because she was deeply worried about her. Blair knew Jo in fact must have been horribly worried about her to do what she did because she was not the kind of person who would "squeal," as Jo would put it. Nobody was more private of a person than Jo, and nobody respected another person's secrets as much as Jo did. Part of Blair still wanted to strangle Jo, of course, but deep down, there was another part of her that really did understand.

The rest of that Saturday passed by uneventfully. Mrs. Garrett went out on a date with a gentleman friend of hers that evening while all the girls had to pass the time doing homework and reading since their recent stunt with the alcohol had gotten them grounded for the next two months and caused them to lose all TV privileges. Blair and Jo went through the rest of the day putting on their act for everyone, same as always, and nobody noticed anything unusual.

At ten-thirty, though, after Natalie and Tootie and Mrs. Garrett had all gone to sleep, Blair and Jo met together in the storage room of Dorm Z like they always did whenever they wanted to take their masks off and discuss something privately.

"Listen, Blair, I know you're probably pretty angry at me right now and you have every right to be. I know that when I told Mrs. Gordon about everything you've been goin' through, I violated your trust. I know that if I were in your shoes right now, I'd be furious. But just let me explain. Please."

"Explain away," Blair said quietly while folding her arms across her chest. And although Blair sounded quiet and calm when she responded to Jo just now, Jo had heard a tiny trace of anger in her voice.

"Cynthia Foster died at sixteen because she didn't reach out for any kind of help that could have potentially saved her life. My friend from back home, Gloria, is dead for the same reason, because she suffered in silence instead of reachin' out."

"_I did _reach out. I reached out to _you._ And what did you do? You betrayed my trust."

"You reached out to me, yes, but you need way more help than I am capable of giving to you. I'd rather lose a limb than squeal, Blair. You know that. But I don't wanna find you lyin' on the floor next to an empty bottle of pills, too far gone for us to be able to save you like Cynthia was, all because I was afraid of squealin'. I'd rather squeal now and have you hate my guts now and for you to get the help you need now rather than for you to love me now because I didn't say anything and then you turn up dead six months later because you finally reached your breaking point and you couldn't take it anymore."

"I just don't see why it's necessary for everyone at Dorm Z and all our boys at Bates to know about my miscarriage," Blair said icily.

"I am sorry about that, _jiejie_. I really am. I had no idea Mrs. Gordon was going to tell all of them about that."

"Well…with all that being said, I have to admit that what everybody did for me today…it really lifted my spirits. It really helped."

"I'm glad."

"And while I'm not thrilled that everybody knows about my miscarriage, I must say that I was deeply touched by the blue bracelets they wore. That meant a lot."

"I'm real glad you said that, because there's a little somethin' I wanna show ya."

"What's that?" Blair asked.

Jo, who was wearing her typical oversized gray sweatshirt and jeans, pulled up the left sleeve of her sweatshirt, revealing a blue bracelet.

"_Meimei_," Blair gasped as tears came to her eyes, and then Jo gave her the fiercest hug.


	12. A Calculated Risk

**A/N: **See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.

**Chapter Summary: **Blair schools Mrs. Garrett on how to help victims of sexual assault.

**Chapter 12: A Calculated Risk**

Three weeks later near the end of September, there was a big costume party being held in another dorm, and despite the fact that the girls were still grounded because of the alcohol incident, Mrs. Garrett decided to make an exception for one night and allow them to go to the party since it was on the Eastland campus. However, what was supposed to have been a carefree night of fun turned into a painful, horrifying experience for Natalie that she would never forget. An attacker had recently raped the headmaster's secretary, Mrs. King, and that same attacker came upon Natalie as she was hurrying home from the party that night. He held Natalie down and covered her mouth, but before he could do anything else, some people walked by and he was afraid of being seen or heard by them, so he ran off. For the next several days, Natalie withdrew into herself and stayed locked up in the girls' bedroom. Blair, maintaining her spoiled persona, complained about Natalie's unusual behavior, and Tootie and Jo complained as well. Blair did try to be helpful, though, and she talked to Mrs. Garrett ahead of time and asked her for permission to take Natalie and the girls to New York City to a Bruce Springsteen concert that weekend. And even though the girls were supposed to still be grounded, Mrs. Garrett was all too happy to make another exception and let them go because she was so worried about Natalie. Unfortunately, Natalie refused to go to the concert because she was too scared to leave Eastland, and that's when Mrs. Garrett and the girls really started to worry. Even more unfortunately, Mrs. Garrett made the mistake of giving Natalie unsolicited, unhelpful advice and lectures, and she guilt-tripped her into going to the first of a series of women's safety courses the school was offering its students in response to Mrs. King getting attacked. And in the long run, Mrs. Garrett's insensitive advice and Natalie going to that first women's safety course only made matters worse for her, not better.

One afternoon in mid-October, three weeks after Natalie was attacked, Blair could tell that she wasn't doing very well. She was painting a big fake smile on her face and she was acting all happy, but Blair could look in her eyes and tell that she was still in a lot of pain inside. This didn't really surprise Blair at all because she understood Natalie's pain and struggles in dealing with sexual assault all too well. Sure, by all outward appearances, it looked as though Natalie had moved on with her life, but Blair knew from personal experience that it was far more likely that Natalie was simply putting on an act, much as she'd always had to do. It was a sad fact of life that whenever a person endured a terribly traumatic experience and she wasn't able to bounce back from it in two days or less, people often didn't like to be bothered with that hurting person's pain. They often lacked the patience to just sit with her, hold her hand, be with her, and listen to her, and to continue doing those things for days, weeks, months on end if necessary. Blair could really sense it from Natalie that she was simply wearing a fake smile so that she wouldn't have to put up with other people belittling her for still being in pain and for not having "snapped out of it" yet. She knew exactly what Natalie was going through, and it broke her heart.

"How you doing, Nat?" Blair asked kindly. Thankfully, Tootie had just gone out to the movies with Terry and Jenny, so there was no chance of their reigning snoop queen listening in on their private discussion. Blair had also thoroughly checked their bedroom for any kind of bugs or listening devices ahead of time, just as she frequently did with the storage room of Dorm Z. She had found bugs in their bedroom before and had quickly tossed them into Eastland Creek, so she knew beyond a doubt that her psychopathic DNA donors and their minions actually _were_ trying to listen in on her private conversations from time to time. Fortunately though, when Blair had recently searched their bedroom, it was clear, so she knew she could say what she had to say to Natalie without worrying about anybody else hearing their conversation.

"I'm fine," Natalie responded nonchalantly.

Blair then locked her chestnut eyes with Natalie's blue ones and said, "No, Nat. Don't give me the standard 'I'm fine' answer just to be polite. You went through a terrible experience three weeks ago. I know you're probably still going through a lot inside. It's okay if you need to talk about it. I'm here."

Natalie nodded and told her, "I appreciate that, Blair. I really do. You were really there for me after it happened, back when I was having all those awful nightmares. You put your arms around me and sat up through the night with me more than anybody did. And that meant the world to me. I want you to know that. But there's just no way that you can really understand what I'm going through now."

In the next moment, Blair walked over to the bedroom door and closed it, and then she walked over to where Natalie was standing, which was beside hers and Tootie's bunk beds. Once again, she locked her eyes with Natalie's, and she quietly told her, "I understand a lot more than you might think. I very rarely discuss this, but before I came to Eastland, back when I was still a little child, I…well, let's just say that I had a very similar experience to the one you had three weeks ago."

Astonished, Natalie asked, "Are you saying that you were raped when you were a little girl?"

"I'm simply saying that I had an experience that was similar to yours. I'm not going to go into the exact details of what happened. But my point is, it's okay if you're still hurting, angry, frightened, or confused. It's okay to feel whatever it is that you're feeling inside right now. It's okay if everything isn't all peaches and cream in your life just yet. And it's okay if you want or need to talk to me about it. It's also okay if you don't. I just want you to know that whatever it is you need right now, I'm here for you."

"Thank you," Natalie whispered with a grateful smile. While Natalie had long since gotten used to Blair being a petty, airheaded little snob over the years, she was deeply impressed and moved by the incredible empathy Blair had shown her ever since she'd been attacked. Not even Mrs. Garrett had come anywhere close. "I don't know," Nat sighed. "I just feel so mixed up inside. And angry. And not just at my attacker, but at other people, too."

"Like who?"

"Like at that horrible instructor at that safety course Mrs. Garrett goaded me into attending. And at Mrs. Garrett."

"I'll bet I can guess why. The way that instructor treated you at that first class was basic Victim-Blaming 101. I didn't say anything; I didn't want to start an argument or make a scene, but truth be told, when he started giving you a hard time at that class that night, I wanted nothing more than to pull a Jo and make a fist and punch his lights out."

"So did I, but not at first. It took me some time to really process it. I couldn't really put my emotions into words at the time because I was just so shocked and confused by everything. But when that class was over, part of me almost felt as though I had been violated a second time."

"_You were _violated a second time, Natalie. Maybe not physically, but psychologically."

"The thing is, when he was getting on my case about going out at night, not asking someone to walk with me, taking a shortcut instead of sticking to a well-lighted path and so on, he was making me feel like what had happened to me was my fault. It was like getting attacked all over again. I was already feeling bad enough and the last thing I needed was for some insensitive jerk like him to come along and make me feel even worse."

"I know, Nat. _Believe me_, I know."

"I mean, I understood his overall point. I know that he was basically trying to tell me that I wasn't as powerless as I thought I was and that there were things I could do to help keep myself safe. It wasn't really _what _he said. It was _how _he said it."

"I know. He only should've told you all those things _after _reassuring you that what that monster did to you was not your fault. And after giving you that reassurance, _then _he could have started talking about all the things you could begin doing now to decrease your chances of getting attacked again. But the _way _he said those things to you, even raising his voice to you, really did make it seem as though he was implying that you were to blame for having been attacked. It was awful."

"It sure was. But as angry as I am at that insensitive instructor, I'm even angrier at Mrs. Garrett."

"Let me guess: she came in here and gave you some well-meaning but ignorant, insensitive, atrocious advice that like that instructor, only added to your pain and made you feel worse."

"Bingo. You know what she did? She compared getting sexually assaulted to a fear of lightning she'd had during her childhood in Appleton, Wisconsin. When I tried to call her out on how those two things could not possibly be compared, she said, and I quote, 'Fear is fear and it has to be overcome.' The thing about all of this that was so hurtful and upsetting is that I was already in so much pain and I really didn't need to be lectured by anybody at that time in my life. I was already going through so much. And maybe I was hiding away here in our room, hiding away from the world and from life, but after everything I had been through, _I needed _to do that for a while, you know?"

"I know. It's perfectly understandable that you would need to get away from the rest of the world and take some time for yourself after an experience like that."

"It would have been _so nice _if Mrs. Garrett would have understood that and just listened to me and supported me and _not _tried to lecture me about something that she cannot truly understand. Mrs. Garrett's advice is usually helpful, but this time, her advice, her lectures, her giving me a hard time for staying in our room reading _Walden, _just made me feel so disrespected. And having Mrs. Garrett comparing my struggle with being sexually assaulted to a silly fear of lightning, and then her laying guilt trips on me to try and manipulate me into going to that awful class where I was emotionally attacked by that instructor…"

"I know. Sometimes the worst thing a person can possibly do is to try and give advice to someone who's in a lot of pain. Just look at Job. That poor man went through hell, and in the most agonizing time of his life when he needed love and support the most, the advice of his so-called 'friends' only made everything worse. The Bible says that when they first came to Job, they raised their voices and wept, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads toward heaven. And then the Bible says that they just sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights without saying a word to him. I personally believe that Job's friends probably did him much more good when they simply spent time with him and kept their mouths shut. I think we'd all be much better off if more people would try to do _that _rather than lecture those of us who are hurting."

"I agree."

"In times like these when we're really suffering, the last thing we typically need is for other people to give us advice, especially about issues that they themselves have no experience with. What we need in these times is just very basic love, respect, and support. What we need is for people to _shut their mouths and_ _just listen. _I love Mrs. Garrett, and you and I both know that she didn't mean any harm. We know she did what she did because in her mind, she truly believed that she was acting in your best interests. But _she was wrong_, Natalie. Comparing being sexually assaulted to a mere childhood fear of lightning is very disrespectful to victims of sexual assault and what we go through to try and rebuild our lives. And her overly simplistic advice about overcoming fear was very disrespectful as well. Working through sexual assault is far more complex than that. It is not something you get over in a day or a week or a month or even a year. It's something that stays with you for the rest of your life. And with all due respect to Mrs. Garrett, I really do believe that this is one rare time when her advice should just be ignored. Don't let Mrs. Garrett or _anybody _try to push you out into the world again until _you _truly feel ready. Take as much time for yourself as you need to heal. Do whatever it is that you need to do for yourself that will help bring you comfort and peace, and don't allow Mrs. Garrett or anybody else to dissuade you."

With tears now running down her cheeks, Natalie responded, "Thank you, Blair." She then gave her the biggest hug.

* * *

Over the next week, Mrs. Garrett and the girls noticed that Natalie was withdrawing back to her room once again, and Blair could read it in Mrs. Garrett's face one day that she was all geared up to go in and invade Natalie's personal time and space and give her one of her lectures. Thankfully, she caught her just in time, just as she was standing in the hallway outside the girls' bedroom door about to go in.

"Uh, Mrs. Garrett, could I please talk to you for a moment in private?" Blair asked her.

"Oh, not now, Blair. I was just about to have a talk with Natalie."

"With all due respect, I don't think you want to go in there to simply have a talk with Natalie. I think you want to go in there and give her a lecture that she really doesn't need right now."

"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Garrett, and then Blair motioned towards Mrs. Garrett's room and she followed Blair in there so they could talk in private.

"When Natalie was attacked a few weeks ago and she stayed all locked up in our room, we were all very worried about her. Natalie just wasn't acting like her usual self and that was very upsetting to all of us, which is probably why the girls and I kept complaining about Natalie the way we did. This whole thing really shook us up inside. But even though I complained, even though I didn't like to think about it too much, I have to admit that it was good for me to talk with Natalie about it as much as I have over the past month. I've really learned a lot. I've learned just how important it is to be sensitive to someone who's in a lot of pain inside."

"Blair, what exactly are you trying to tell me? Are you implying that I _haven't_ been sensitive to Natalie throughout all of this?"

"Quite frankly, _no_, you _haven't _been very sensitive to Natalie throughout all of this. You haven't been very sensitive at all. Your little lecture to Natalie a few weeks ago really hurt her."

"What are you talking about?"

"Back when my parents got divorced, I felt as though my whole world had come to an end. I was crushed. And whenever I tried to talk to anyone about it, I was just brushed aside. I was given a bunch of unhelpful advice from all the adults in my life that only made me feel a million times worse. I was told to just forget about it. To smile. To put on a happy face. To be grateful for all the expensive things I had in my life. To go on a big shopping spree with my mother. My heart was broken, and they were acting as though my broken, devastated heart could be mended by a mere shopping spree. When I was going through all of that, their advice only made my pain so much worse. I was hurting so much, and I didn't need to be told to put on a happy face and go shopping. I just needed for someone to put their arm around me and _listen to me. _And in the same token, your advice to Natalie didn't help her. It only added to her pain. Natalie didn't need for you to get on her case and lecture her and make her feel bad about doing the things that she felt she needed to do in order to heal."

"Natalie's not going to heal as long as she stays locked away in her room, Blair. She can't go through life avoiding it completely just because she's been hurt."

"You make it sound like Natalie's locking herself away in our bedroom because she got dumped by a boy. If Natalie were acting this way just because she had recently broken up with a boyfriend, I might agree with you. But this is something that runs much deeper than your typical case of teenage angst. This isn't about boys or zits or school gossip or any of the usual stuff we come running to you about. This is about being sexually assaulted. Natalie may have locked herself away in our room in the beginning because she was afraid to face life again, but she also did it for a much deeper reason that you don't seem to recognize. She did it because she needed to take some time away from the rest of the world, time for herself, in order to heal. And with all due respect, the _last _thing she needed was for you to invade her private time and space and bombard her with a lecture. She just needed you to support her and listen to her, nothing more, nothing less. Your advice, comparing being sexually assaulted to a mere childhood fear of lightning, was downright disrespectful to Natalie and to _all _victims of sexual assault. And so was your overly simplistic advice that 'fear is fear and it has to be overcome.' All those people who gave me all that terrible advice when my parents got divorced were people who grew up in homes with both a mother and a father. They were people who had no idea what I was really going through inside, and their dumb advice that I would feel so much better if I just went on a shopping spree with my mother or that I should just plaster a fake smile on my face and that that would somehow solve my problems…it only made me feel disrespected, and it only made my pain so much worse. And whether you meant to do it or not, you ended up making the same mistake with Natalie. Natalie has withdrawn back into herself because she still needs to take personal time for herself in order to heal. She wasn't ready to be forced back out into the world yet, and your manipulation tactics only made everything worse."

"Manipulation tactics?" Mrs. Garrett gasped, unable to believe her ears.

"Yes. Manipulation tactics. Like it or not, guilt-tripping Natalie into going to that women's safety course last month was nothing more than a manipulation tactic on your part, and it _did_ _not _make things better. It only made everything so much worse. That instructor is guilty of victim-blaming, Mrs. Garrett. You were there. You saw it for yourself how he ripped into Natalie for going to that costume party alone and for taking a shortcut home and for not checking the area for strangers first. He made Natalie feel like she was to blame for having been attacked, and that is standard Victim-Blaming 101, and victim-blaming is a heinous thing. Natalie was already in a lot of pain that night and that insensitive instructor only added to Natalie's burdens. And for your part in all of this, so did you. _Why_ _did _you lecture Natalie and push her so hard to get back into the world before she was ready, Mrs. Garrett? Was it _really_ because you were so worried about _Natalie's_ well-being, or was it because seeing Natalie withdraw made _you _feel uncomfortable and you wanted to get everything back to the status-quo as soon as possible to alleviate _your _discomfort?"

Blair's words really drove an invisible dagger into Edna Garrett's heart and she could see it, and she did feel bad about it. However, this was one time when Blair knew beyond a doubt that she was in the right and Mrs. Garrett wasn't, and she knew she had to force Mrs. Garrett to do some long, hard thinking, even though it hurt her.

"You're a wonderful person, Mrs. Garrett," Blair continued. "And you're a wonderful friend to all of us, and we appreciate everything you do for us. But sometimes, you really are too quick to lecture and too slow to _listen, _especially in situations like Natalie's that you don't have any personal experience with. All those people who gave me such horrible advice after my parents' divorce were unqualified to give me any advice at all because my struggle was something they had never experienced. And while you are qualified to give us advice about a lot of the typical teenage problems that we have, _you are not _qualified to tell anyone how to deal with being sexually assaulted because you have no clue what it is like to struggle with that. You've never been there. And if you'll forgive me for being so blunt, it is a very stupid idea to try to give anyone advice about a kind of struggle that you have never had to deal with in your own life. In a situation like Natalie's, the best thing you can possibly do is just be there. Just support her. Just listen to her. Don't advise her and for heaven's sake, _do not _give her any lectures or guilt trips. That's the last thing she needs. Yes, Natalie does have to overcome her fears and face the world again, but she doesn't have to do it overnight, and she doesn't have to do it according to _your _schedule. Don't go into our bedroom and preach lectures at Natalie, Mrs. Garrett. Don't give her grief for staying in our room reading _Walden _if that's what she feels she needs to do right now. Don't tell her what she should or should not do in order to heal. That's not for you to decide. Just listen to her if she decides she wants to confide in you. Just support her. Just be there."

"Well…thank you for your input, Blair," Mrs. Garrett said quietly. "I'll do a lot of thinking about everything you've said."

"I appreciate that," Blair said gently, and then she began to walk out of Mrs. Garrett's room. Just as she put her hand on the doorknob, though, she turned to face Mrs. Garrett again. "Just to be clear, Mrs. Garrett," she told her, "I didn't say everything I did just now because I was trying to hurt you. I just wanted to make you do some thinking. That's all."

Maintaining eye contact with Blair, Mrs. Garrett said, "I know that, Blair. And _you have_ given me a great deal to think about. And I thank you for it."

"My pleasure," said Blair, and then she walked out of Mrs. Garrett's bedroom, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Later on that evening, Mrs. Garrett did go into the girls' bedroom to talk with Natalie. However, this time, _she did not _go in there to lecture her about anything.

"Natalie, I have something important I need to talk to you about," said Mrs. Garrett as they stood facing one another in the girls' bedroom.

"What is it?"

"I had a talk with Blair earlier today and she really made me see some things in myself that I didn't like. We both know that I'm always in the habit of giving other people advice whenever they're having problems, you girls especially. And sometimes, that's a good thing. But other times, it can actually be a very bad thing. Blair made me realize today that there are times when I really do need to do a lot less lecturing and a lot more listening."

"I can't argue with that."

"I owe you an apology, Natalie."

"I can't argue with that, either."

"I wasn't aware of it until Blair brought it to my attention, but I know now that I was very insensitive and disrespectful to you when I gave you my advice…my lecture…after you were attacked last month. I know now that instead of arrogantly trying to lecture you about how to deal with a problem that I have never experienced in my own life, I should have just kept my big mouth shut and taken the time to listen, _really listen_. Instead of me trying to manipulate you into doing what _I _wanted, what _I _thought was best, I should have asked you about what _you _wanted and _you _thought was best. I should have asked you about _your _needs in all of this. After all, _you _were the one who was assaulted. _You _were the one who was traumatized. And the only person's opinion that really matters in this is _yours_. Not mine. And I want you to know that I'm sorry, Natalie. I'm so sorry that I was so insensitive and disrespectful to you. I never meant to be that way. In fact, I was convinced at the time that I was helping you. But I get it now that I hurt you a lot more than I helped you, and that was never my intention."

"I know it wasn't, Mrs. Garrett," Natalie said kindly. "And I accept your apology."

"Come on," said Mrs. Garrett as she took Natalie's hand and led her over to Blair's bed, where they both sat down side by side. "You and I are going to have a long talk tonight. Or to be more precise, _you're _going to do all the talking while _I _listen. You're going to tell me everything that you need. You're going to tell me all the things that I can do for you to help you through this while I keep my lecturing, guilt-tripping mouth shut."

Natalie laughed then and said, "Thank you."

"Of course. And thank _you _for giving me another chance."

"Don't mention it," Nat said with a smile, and then Mrs. Garrett took her hand again and gave it a loving squeeze. Afterwards, she spent much of that night by Natalie's side, carefully listening to every word she had to say.

* * *

"How you doin', _jiejie?_" Jo asked Blair when they were talking alone in the storage room of Dorm Z later on that night.

"I'm worried, _meimei. _I'm very worried."

"Worried about what?"

"I think I may have made a huge mistake earlier today."

"What are you talking about?"

"I had a long talk with Mrs. Garrett about Natalie. And in my discussion with her, I took a calculated risk. You see, Natalie and I got to talking about everything she's been going through over the past month since she was assaulted. And Natalie recently confided in me that Mrs. Garrett's advice only made everything so much worse for her. I felt so bad for Natalie because I know from personal experience just how painful it is to be sexually assaulted and then to go to someone for emotional support and be hurt by the insensitive advice they gave. And I really wanted to call Mrs. Garrett out on it and help her learn how to be more sensitive to Natalie. So, I talked to her and I was very blunt with her. I tried my best to say what I felt needed to be said while staying within the confines of my spoiled princess act, but I may not have succeeded. I'm terribly concerned that I might have allowed too much of my mask to slip in Mrs. Garrett's presence. And if I have, that could be very bad news, especially for Mrs. Garrett. You know as well as I do that there's a reason why we keep all of this from Mrs. Garrett and the girls; there's a reason why we don't allow them to get involved in any of this."

"I know. If we let them into this part of our lives, we would be putting their safety at risk. If your insane DNA donors and their minions ever found out about what we're doing here and they found out that Mrs. Garrett and the girls had any part in it, it's likely that they'd be killed along with you and me."

"That's right. That's why I'm so petrified right now. What if Mrs. Garrett has begun to suspect that I'm 'Ariah'?"

"_Jiejie,_ you are always overthinking everything. I'm sure she doesn't suspect anything."

"But what if she does suspect something? What'll I do?"

"Nothing. You'll do nothing. You'll say nothing. You'll just go about your business, wearing your mask like you always do. As long as you go on with your life, business as usual, it won't be long until Mrs. G. starts to tell herself that the whole notion of you being 'Ariah' is ridiculous, and she'll put it behind her."

"You really think so?"

"Of course I do."

"Thanks, _meimei._"

"Don't mention it."

"I don't know what the heck I was thinking. It was so wrong and foolish of me to take such a big risk with our whole movement. No matter how much I love Natalie, I can't put everything on the line for just one person when there are so many kids' lives at stake."

"I think you're overstating things a bit. I don't think you took quite as big of a risk as _you think _you did. And _you were _right to call Mrs. G. out on givin' Nat that dumb lecture."

"You know about it?"

"Nat and I have talked about it a little. I have some idea. Anyway, as usual, I think you're bein' way too hard on yourself. You pulled me in here a few weeks ago and you called me on it when I bit Natalie's head off for not wanting to go to the Springsteen concert. And even though your dose of truth bruised my ego, I soon realized that you were right. I should've been a lot more understanding and supportive. And you were also right to call Mrs. Garrett on lecturing Natalie about somethin' that she's never gone through in her own life."

Blair thought about Jo's helpful words for several long moments, and then she said, "Speaking of being understanding and supportive, I don't know what I would do without you and all your support. Thank you, _jiejie._"

Jo smiled and told Blair truthfully, "It's an honor."

They remained silent for the next few moments, and Jo could tell that despite all her assurances, Blair was still worried that she had made a terrible misstep. So Jo responded by putting a loving hand on her shoulder and telling her, "Don't worry so much. This is no big deal. It's gonna be alright."

"I know," said Blair, but Jo could hear it in her voice that she was not convinced.


End file.
